


The Half-Blooded Pauper

by typewrittentragedian96



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU- Hogwarts, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Benny is a half vampire!, Benny needs a friend, Castiel is oblivious as fuck., Dean is oblivious as fuck., Gen, Gryffindor!Dean, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Homophobia, Hufflepuff!Benny, Hufflepuff!Castiel, Hufflepuff!Tessa, I drew all of the cast's wands!, I'm so proud!, Identity Issues, Internalized Homophobia, Is that even a real thing?, Magic, Maybe a lot of angst., Mischief Not Yet Managed!, Mostly....., Potential Destiel, Practically everyone knows about Benny, Professor!Bobby, Professor!Jody Mills, Ravenclaw!Charlie, Ravenclaw!Jess, Ravenclaw!Sam, Second Fan Fic, Slytherin!Azazel, Slytherin!Crowley, Slytherin!Meg, This WILL be a happy story., Unrequited Love, Vampirophobia, Work In Progress, art included somewhere...., asshole!John Winchester, flying coach!John Winchester, professor!Missouri, retired Auror!John Winchester, sorcery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 19:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1576817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typewrittentragedian96/pseuds/typewrittentragedian96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Benny Lafitte is an eleven year-old boy who has been in so many foster families, he's lost count. None of them were particularly horrible, but none of them were really awesome either. Toss in the fact that he has been followed by a string of magical incidents and the fact that he is aware that he is a half-vampire, and Benny's life doesn't amount to much.</p>
<p>All of that changes with the arrival of a gigantic man in an overcoat with many pockets, who gives him a letter that alters his life forever. Caught up in a whirlwind of wonder, Benny becomes a transfer student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft And Wizardry. Along the way, he meets Dean Winchester and is immediately accepted into his group of friends and family.</p>
<p>But Hogwarts is not known for its lack of excitement. So soon after the Wizarding War where Harry Potter defeated Voldemort, another threat will rise, one that will put all of Benny's skills- and friends- to the test. </p>
<p>*This fic will follow Benny and Dean through their six/seven years at Hogwarts, and it might be sectioned off into specific years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my second fan fiction, and surprise! It's not primarily Destiel! *laughs evilly* 
> 
> Yes, my pretties! It is a HogwartsAU, which is actually incredibly awesome to work with! All of the stuff is right there, and considering Harry Potter has been my first and longest lasting obsession, I have no qualms with any of the information. 
> 
> Some notes beforehand:
> 
> This will not be as dark as my other fic, which is still in progress.
> 
> A lot of it will be snippets of specific moments of certain years or it will be something else, mainly because I haven't decided yet.
> 
> Also, I have created and drawn all of the wands of our main characters, and I will either attach them to a random chapter or I will create another work to house it all. Trust me, I think that I've done very well translating the characters into their wands and I tried very hard to make them all seem individual!
> 
> Without further adieu, here is "The Half-Blooded Pauper".

~Chapter 1~

The rickety train sped along the track, creaking and croaking its way up the British Isles. It was a scarlet engine, created and painted so that it would blend completely with the other Muggle trains, if the need ever arose.

Benny knew this from a book he had read on the way over to the station, one of many that he had received from his social worker, who he soon learned was no more a social worker than he was a normal human being. The man was, for one thing, at least three feet larger than the average man, and his beard was twice as long. Another thing was that he was British, and there were definitely no Brits in Louisiana, much less an American child services agent.

The man had an incredible weird name- Hagrid or something like that- but he was profoundly nice, and his coat had a lot of pockets. When he had taken out the three books that were in Benny’s possession now, he thought he saw the glinting reflection of small eyes, but then the pocket had closed, and the man had handed him the tomes.

He had read the first one on the plane to England, and it was nothing if not tedious. It was clearly made for more mature people instead of eleven-year-old half-vampires that could perform magical feats when they were in the midst of a panic attack. If there was one thing Benny had gleaned from the book before he had set it aside in favor of taking a nap, it was that this whole thing was decidedly not an elaborate prank.

I mean, who would spend so much time and money to make it seem like a half-giant man was escorting me to a foreign country in order to receive a magical education? Benny thought just before he fell asleep.

A few hours later, they had landed in England and had taken a rather hazardous motorbike ride to a bar with a hanging sign on the front in the shape of a cauldron. Under it, there was a plaque that read _“The Leaky Cauldron”_ , and before he could as Hagrid if it was safe to bring a child into a bar, the gigantic man had ushered him inside. There were a lot of people inside, and all of them looked different from the people Benny had seen on the plane. For one thing, there were a lot of pointy hats, and very few of them were not wearing what looked like robes.

Nevertheless, after a few moments of small talk, Hagrid had escorted him to the back alley, where a brick wall stood resolutely in their path. The man had tapped a few bricks with his magical umbrella (a fact that somehow made the obviously not human man seem endearing), and then the wall had _shifted_ , the bricks turning and moving until the wall was gone, and a full street was in front of them.

“Welcome to Diagon Alley!” Hagrid had said happily, and Benny had no choice but to smile as they traversed the street. All of the shops were completely different than the usual shops, but some of them just reminded him of New Orleans, and a pang of homesickness hit him in the gut.

Apparently, the half-giant had noticed his discomfort, because he clapped him so hard on the back that Benny almost fell over before saying, “Don’t you worry, half-blood, Hogwarts is the best place for you, now.”

“I guess, so.” Benny said, still hurting from the impact of Hagrid’s hand.

Hagrid steered him towards a shop named “Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions”, and soon, the hectic process of buying school supplies and robes threw all of his homesickness to the wind. A couple hours of traipsing from store to store, collecting robes and cauldrons and ingredients cleared his head faster than a plate of his foster mama’s king cake. All of the stores were utterly fascinating, and it took a few minutes of slack-jawed amazement to get over that fact that,  at “Flourish and Blotts”, books were _flying through the air._

Benny was flying on cloud 9 as they walked to their last store, practically fighting to skip down the street. He had never been rich or even moderately wealthy considering he had been in the foster system for years. None of his foster families had had a lot of money, and very few of them even cared about his well-being, so this sudden increase in money was practically awe-inspiring. The money was definitely wizard-made; I mean, who names coins as Galleons, Sickles, and Nuts?

The ringing of a bell brought him back to the present, and Benny felt very much out of place as he was ushered into one last store. He stumbled over the threshold into the dusty building, and as he turned around, he realized that Hagrid had stayed outside,taking all of the comfort and security he had felt with him.

The store was seemingly empty, and all Benny felt was that he was in the company of dust and sunlight. The majority of the store was reminiscent of a library, with towering shelves that led far back into the shop, almost beckoning him to delve into the secrets that inevitably lay concealed under the stuffy air and dust. There was a counter in the front, and it was covered with haphazard piles of papers and books, the occasional wooden rod sticking out from underneath. One silver call bell sat on the counter, shining pristinely in the beams of sunlight. It was the only remarkably clean thing in the shop, and it gleamed like a new penny.

Cautiously, Benny walked forward, footsteps echoing ominously in the empty store. He couldn’t hear anything, save for the muted noise from outside. The tension hung in the air like a shroud, and it was all he could do not to hyperventilate.

Approaching the desk, he leaned over, looking left and right for any sign of life. Finding none, Benny turned his gaze back to the bell. He could see his distorted reflection in its curved surface, and the paleness of his skin starkly contrasted the gloomy interior. He wrestled with himself on the urge to ring the bell, simultaneously worried that he would be reprimanded or that he would be standing here all afternoon if he didn’t.

With a sudden burst of confidence, Benny reached out and tapped the call bell.

The dainty _ding_! echoed throughout the shop, and for a few minutes, it seemed as if no one had heard it. Benny was about to turn away when a head popped out from behind one of the shelves. It was an older face, one that bore a multitude of wrinkles and laugh lines. The man’s eyes were a piercing blue-gray, and they held a sharp wisdom beneath the joviality. He was dressed in dark maroon robes, and the closer he came to the desk, the more obvious it became that these robes were old and well-used.

The man stopped at the desk, spidery hands draping over the edge and a smile plastered on his face.

“Well, now. This is a treat. A half-vampire in my shop, looking for a wand!”

The man’s voice was soft and wavery, adding to the almost surreal atmosphere to the situation Benny had found himself in. In fact, it seemed to encompass the entire ordeal up to the loose ends that had yet to be wrapped up. It was otherworldly, yet grounding, and Benny found that the anxiety from earlier had vanished entirely, replaced by a persistent sense of curiosity.

“My name’s Benny, sir. Benny Lafitte.” His own voice seemed suppressed in the shop’s humid air.

The man’s eyes widened a little bit, making him look like an owl, and the smile grew even more.

“And American no less! I suppose that one of your parents was full-blooded vampire, yes? And am I correct to assume that neither of your parents had a wand?”

“Yes, sir, but I don’t know my parents.”

The frankness of the answer seemed to bounce off of the man entirely, as he simply nodded distractedly, as if he had known all along and that he had been waiting for Benny to come to that conclusion as well. He turned and walked back into the maze of shelves for a moment, and after a bit of rustling, came back with a rectangular box with a small placard on the side that read “12 ¾”. The man (who Benny assumed to be Ollivander) opened the box and withdrew a wooden rod, intricately carved and lightly-varnished.

Mr. Ollivander handed the wand over to Benny, who looked at it quizzically before he said, “What do I do with it?”

Even if he was exasperated, Mr. Ollivander’s pale eyes betrayed no such emotion as he said, “Just swish it around a bit.”

Frowning skeptically, Benny swished the wand once, some part of him telling him that something just didn’t feel right. Apparently, his instincts were right, as a fountain of purple sparks emitted from the tip, and one of the lights farther towards the back of the shop exploded in a similar shower of sparks.

Mr. Ollivander tskd under his breath, snatching the wand from Benny’s hands and returning to the shelves. Benny felt a pang of disappointment, and he felt the irrational thought that he was somehow solely responsible for the wand’s failure pop into his head. But no sooner had the thought been thought when another wand was offered to him. It was darker than the other one, with ribbon-like shapes spiralling up the handle until they stopped, where the wood eventually narrowed to a blunted point.

Benny didn’t know much about wandlore or other such things, but he did know that when he closed his fingers around the handle of the wand, it just felt perfect. It felt as if he had only set it down a minute ago, and that he had had it for what seemed like years. He swished it, and felt a rush of pleasure shoot up and down his arm as twisting tendrils of blue smoke curled from the end.

Mr. Ollivander wore a similar smile of wonder on his own face, and Benny almost didn’t hear him say, “Reed, 11.5 inches, springy with a core of unicorn hair. Fortuitous that it chose you.”

Benny looked at him for an explanation, and he said, “Well, the wood comes from a very rare type of water-reed that only resides in, so it happens, New Orleans. It is the only type of its kind in my shop.”

“It’s perfect.” Benny whispered, still in awe of the wand. It fit almost seamlessly into his hand, and it no longer felt as if it were a separate entity; no, it felt like an attachment of his own arm that he hadn’t noticed up until now.

Mr. Ollivander cleared his throat slightly, and said, “Now, that will be seven Galleons, Mr. Lafitte.” Benny handed over the gold coins gladly, and smiled when he heard the odd man say, “Great things will come from you, Mr. Lafitte. Very good things.”

When he left the shop with a polite ‘goodbye’, as his many foster mothers had often emphasized, Benny was definitely much more content and excited for the future, even if he was out of his element. Hagrid had met him with a similar sentiment, and it was with happiness that they had walked to the train station at King’s Cross. That feeling had lasted through the trip through the apparently permeable wall and the final departure onto the train.

Of course, simple feelings don’t last long enough, and as Benny once again stared out at the landscape that rushed by at a manic speed, he wondered if he would even make other friends at this magical school in Britain. He figured that it would be quite difficult, given his condition. Granted, one look at the blood packets packed into his trunk would turn anyone away, and the fact that he was not of other people’s kind, that he was American, would be the next deterrent. Finally, if that wasn’t enough, then his rather reclusive nature was enough to send everyone packing. For a second, Benny contemplated if having adults as your only friends was suitable for someone his age before angrily dashing the thought away.

He needed someone his own age to connect to, to talk to when he was sad or when he was angry, someone who would back him up when others who didn’t feel the same way came knockin’.

“Is it you?”

The British accent caught him off guard, and it wasn’t a wonder why: it was practically greasy with flattery and narcissism. Benny turned to look at the source and was unsurprised with what he found.

The boy standing in the doorway was flanked by two other children around his age, but he was definitely the shorter of the bunch. He had brown hair that looked as if it was always slicked over with product, as one of his foster mothers called “hair gel”. His eyes were shifty and so brown that, in the light, they almost seemed red. He wore a shit-eating grin, a word that Benny had picked up from his first family. Benny got the feeling that this boy meant business and that he was accustomed to always getting the full house at a card game. He hated people like him.

The two beside him were no less superior in their mannerisms and appearances. The only girl in the trio had dark hair, dark eyes, and wore a dark scowl on her face. The other boy was taller than the both of them, with dirty blonde hair and almost yellow eyes. He was obviously the muscle of the group.

All of the children were blocking the exit to the main hallway of the train, and Benny couldn’t help but cringe at the sound of uncertainty in his voice as he said, “Excuse me?”

The greasy boy smirked, answering, “I said, are you the vampire? The bloodsucker?”

Benny felt his heart plummet into his chest, and the sadness that he had intentionally bottled up so that he would actually have fun on this trip surged the the surface.

“Yes,” he whispered, any confidence he had draining away like water down the drain. He had heard the comments before, many times over in the course of his childhood before. Taunts about being the “scourge of Christ”, “spawn of Satan”, and “blood-drinker” followed him every day from the house to the market, or the schoolyard, or even the general store. Yet Benny could never find the courage or the guts to tell anyone otherwise, because it was true.

“Well, then. An American _and_ a baby-killing fiend. You are certainly one-of-a-kind. And not in a good way.”

The boy smirked, and his two compatriots laughed haughtily behind him. Benny felt himself draw in deeper and deeper into himself, and he found himself wishing that all of this was just a dream, that he would close his eyes and wake up at home, where he wasn’t alone and lost.

“Hey, Short-Stack! Back off!”

The unfamiliar voice jogged Benny out of his self-deprecation, and he was utterly surprised when another body pushed through the three at the doorway. The newcomer was taller than the Greasy Boy and the Scowling Girl, and he was skinny. It was a healthy kind of skinny, though, a kind that came from frequent excursions outdoors. He was also somewhat tan, with sandy-blonde hair and forest-green eyes. He was wearing an army green shirt and jeans, and he thought he saw a necklace around his neck, but he couldn’t get a good enough view. Benny remarked to himself that this boy was a very good-looking boy, but he was currently wearing an angry grimace on his face, and he suddenly felt very small.

“What in the name of Hades possessed you to come over here and demand something of me?” Greasy Boy said, a sneer distorting his face.

“For one thing, I’ve been taught that being nice to people always ends up coming back to you, and the same goes for being an ass. So, I make it an effort to be nice to people who need it, and this kid looks like he needs it right about now.” The boy pointed at Benny, flashing him a brilliant smile before turning back to the posse.

“Also, I have a sixth sense when it comes to stupidity, and you guys” --The boy pointed at all three of the kids-- “are practically soaked with it.”

The girl bristled in anger, spitting out “Hey! Watch your mouth, Winchester. You don’t want to take the wrong side here.”

The tall boy nodded angrily in response. “Yeah, if you take that bloodsucker’s side, you’d be even more stupid than we are!”

Greasy Boy scowled at the tall boy, smacking him on the back of the head. “Idiot!” he hissed. “You should just leave the talking to me, alright, Azazel?”

Azazel nodded quietly, and Greasy Boy turned back to Benny.

“And you should watch your back, little blood junkie, or else I might let it slip that Hogwarts is harboring a full-fledged baby killer under their roof. We’ll be seeing each other real soon, Winchester.” He said, sending a pointed look at Benny’s savior before traipsing out of the compartment and down the hallway.

Barely a second past before the boy turned to Benny, that brilliant smile stretching across his face. Looking at him happy was like looking straight into the sun, and pure kindness radiated from him and struck Benny with the force of a tidal wave.

He stuck out his hand, still grinning at him as if they had been friends forever, and said, “Well, that could’ve ended badly.”

Benny nodded, still in a state of shock at the events that had transpired. He swallowed thickly, and said quietly, “It could have, but it didn’t. So, thanks.”

He grasped the boy’s hand in his own, and was not surprised at the warmth and gentleness of his palm against the cool, calloused hands that belonged to Benny.

“The name’s Benny. Benny Lafitte.”

“Like the accent! Where are you from-- no, wait! Let me guess!”

The boy adopted a posture of mock-thoughtfulness, his hand poised on his chin and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. After a moment, he raised his hand in the air, eyes gleaming in triumph.

“Got it! Louisiana!”

Benny laughed, surprised at how easily it came to him despite his nervousness.

“Yep, you got it right! Are you American, too?”

The boy shook his head, and said, “Not really. My parents are American and they moved here  when they were younger, but I somehow missed the British accent. I suppose that, with people like those guys, I’m blessed to sound American.”

Benny nodded solemnly, then asked, “I’m sorry, maybe I’m just a few biscuits short of a bakery, but I don’t think I got your name.”

The boy beamed at him even brighter, as if it were possible, and puffed out his chest with pride. Instantly, Benny knew that this boy right here was very proud of his family, and was likely loyal to the very end.

“My name is Dean Winchester, but my friends call me Batman.”

Benny opened his mouth to respond with something equally witty, but there was a knock at the compartment door, and a blonde head poked in.

“Hey, Dean! What was that all about? I’m sitting in my compartment with Charlie when all of a sudden that trio of jerks stampedes by us, and that Crowley kid gives me the angriest glare I have ever seen.”

Dean quirks up one of his eyebrows at her, and the girl sighs and mumbles, “Fine. Second angriest. Don’t tell my mom I said that!” She points at Dean, and he crosses his fingers over his heart. Then, she takes notice of Benny and she instantly smiled.

“New friend?” She asked not unkindly.

“I-I’m Benny. I’m from Louisiana.”

The girl gasps, the novelty of an American in Britain not lost on her yet. She immediately shoves Dean aside and plops down next to him, her eyes wide with wonder.

“Really? What’s it like there? Is it hotter, colder, brighter, darker, or is there magic there?”

“Whoah, whoah, Jo! Easy up on the questions! This kid just survived Crowley and his gang, give him some room!”

Jo glared at Dean, but quieted nonetheless. Another girl, one with fire-red hair, took the moment to come in and introduce herself as Charlie, and the next thing he knew, Benny found himself explaining the differences between Britain and America-- well, those that he knew of, anyway. And the entire time he was talking, all of them (though Dean tried to pretend he wasn’t) listened attentively. In return for his facts about life in Louisiana and how he was a half-vampire (which all of them said was no big deal), his new friends told him about their lives, and how they found out they had magical potential.

Little by little, as the trip wore on, Benny found himself unable to stop smiling, and became more and more excited as they neared their destination.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Benny was in the middle of telling a story about how he had almost been eaten by an alligator when the train slowed to a stop. He looked around at the group, confusion etched onto his face, and he was met with various faces in the different stages of excitement. Dean was outright beaming, Charlie was jumping up and down in her seat, and Jo looked as though her parents had told her they were going to Disney World.

At his expression, Dean practically whispered, “We’re here.”

Benny felt his heart flip-flop in his chest, and the excited anxiety tugged at his bladder.

_They were here. HE was here. Hogwarts was just outside of those doors._

As the thought crossed his mind, they all heard the sounds of compartment doors opening like the thunder right before a storm. Footsteps sounded from the hallway, and hastily, Benny got up and yanked open the door. The tidal wave of cloaked students was enough to make him hesitate, but then Charlie and Jo were pushing him, and he was swept through the throng of excited children until he breathed in the cool evening air.

He stepped away from the others, mainly to orient himself amongst the chaos of the transition from train to station, and in the distance, he saw pinpricks of light that heralded the existence of a small town or something similar.

A hand clapped him on the shoulder, and he turned to see Dean gazing out among the landscape as well. The excitement was plain to see on his face, his eyes shining in the streetlamps placed strategically in the station so that it was fully visible.

“We’re here!” Dean said again, and this time, Benny fully believed it.

A lumbering form crossed his vision, and he caught a glimpse of Hagrid, lantern in hand, gesturing behind him. Benny couldn’t hear him, but all he had to do was wait a few moments before Hagrid’s booming voice became audible.

_“First years! All o’ you are here, alright? Any o’ you get lost? Nope? Good! Well, follow me ‘ere, and you’ll get yer firs’ glimpse o’ Hogwarts!”_

Benny looked at each of the group in turn, then said, “Well, then? Let’s go!”

Without a second thought, Benny took off running, pushing his way through the crowd until he was submerged in a river of other first years, all of them shoving past each other eagerly to get a first glimpse of Hogwarts. He didn’t have to turn around to know that Dean and the rest of the gang were right behind him, and he could barely refrain from smiling at Charlie’s whoops.

Hagrid chose not to run, instead taking the path at a leisurely pace.

They ran on into the evening, lamps and lanterns lighting the way, as the cobblestone turning to dirt, until they rounded a bend and found a wondrous sight. All of them stopped in their tracks, breathless with joy, and Benny thought to himself, _I’m glad I left home._

At the top of the small hill they stood on, the students could see a vast and inky-black lake, light prancing across the waves like celestial dancers, pirouetting and leaping in the indigo gloom of the night. There was a herd of boats on the shore, each of them with a lantern and missing oars. But across the lake, framed on the horizon like a painting, was a humongous castle, windows blinking in the evening air. The parapets and towers seemed to reach for the sky, as if to ascend from the earth straight into whatever afterlife lay beyond the veil.

A girl beside Benny breathed out a soft “ _whoah_ ”, and he thought he heard one boy say “ _bloody hell_ ”. He said nothing, mainly because he thought that there was nothing to say that could even describe how magical this moment was. He could stand here all day and stare at the castle against the black sky, and watch the waves rush in and retreat out in an endless cycle.

Then the magic broke, and Hagrid pushed to the front of the pack, turning to address the hundreds of eager eleven-year-olds.

“Now, each boat holds five people, so find an empty boat an’ get ready!”

Without a second’s thought, Benny sprinted to the nearest boat, not caring if he knocked anyone over or pushed them aside. He reached the line of boats first, standing in front of it in case anyone wanted to take the boat from him. Benny was not going to let anyone else other than his friends get in with him, even though he had only met them a few hours ago.

Thankfully, his new friends reached his boat quicker than the others, and as they piled in, one other boy who they did not know got in with them silently. Benny took the time to size him up while the slackers tried to find a spot to fit in. The boy was a little shorter than Dean, with raven-black hair and striking blue eyes. He wasn’t smiling outright, but there was a kindness behind his eyes, as if he knew sooner or later, his composure would crack and a grin would bleed through. He looked shy, though, so Benny saved him the trouble and stuck out his hand.

“Name’s Benny. These are my friends Dean, Jo, and Charlie.” He gestured to all of them in turn, each one giving a little wave or a handshake in the case of Dean. The boy smile shyly, but shook his hand and Dean’s.

“My name is Castiel Novak,” the boy said, his voice sounding a little like he had swallowed a mouthful of gravel. His accent was by no means light, but it wasn’t overbearing like Crowley’s. It was pleasant, and Benny found himself smiling heartily at the boy.

There were a few moments of quiet trepidation as Hagrid got into his own boat and, with a wave of his lantern, the boats shoved off by themselves. All sound seemed to disappear amongst the calming whisper of the waves, and the occasional sneeze. Not one person spoke higher than a whisper, if at all. It was a respectful and awe-inspired silence.

When the first boats reached the cavern that was tastefully concealed by ivy, Hagrid barked out a “Watch your heads, firs’ years!”

The boats floated diligently along a narrow river that forced them to get into a straight line. When they reached an open cavern, the boats all slid to a stop and the first years clambered out onto cobblestone once again. When all of the children (and Hagrid) got out of the boats, they slipped out of the cavern and back out into the night. Hagrid motioned them to follow, and they traipsed up a set of stairs.

On the way up, Hagrid talked to them, telling them about his experiences when he was a first year climbing the steps, and advised them not to freak out when they saw the ghosts, as they were well-adjusted members of the staff and not, by any means, malevolent.

When they reached the top of the stairs, Hagrid waved them up and instructed them to stand and wait for a short while before someone came to get them. Before he turned down a hallway, Hagrid winked conspiratorially at Benny, who smiled warmly in return. And then they were alone, clustered together. No one spoke, but then a loud comment reverberated around the hall.

“I wonder why Hogwarts even accepted an American here, much less a half-vampire.”

There was no doubt that Crowley had been the one who spoke up, but all logical thought vanished from Benny’s mind as people began to whisper exclamations of surprise and confusion.

“A half-vampire, here?”

“That’s simply insane, isn’t it?”

“I hope I don’t get bitten.”

“Wasn’t there some sort of way the Ministry uses to keep out those kind of threats?”

“My mom will be furious when I tell her.”

Benny started feeling a little bit nauseous, and resolutely refused to stare at Crowley, who was making an effort to point him out. It didn’t take long, and he only felt worse as the whispers ceased and felt the hundreds of frightened eyes alight on his rigid form.

“Well, isn’t that right, bloodsucker? Hm?” He asked, and when Benny didn’t answer, Crowley grinned evilly as he said, “I mean, you really shouldn’t be allowed here if you are going to be a threat to all of us. Wait-- what if that was the whole reason you came?”

Crowley grinned, looking at the crowd of terrified children under his spell, and Benny thought that he looked like a bandstander, a carnie who talks the crowd into a frenzy. He’ll make a fine politician, he thought bitterly as he continued to speak.

“Maybe this _thing’s_ reason for coming here is that this school is a buffet meal, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week! I mean, we are all full of blood, and what do vampires eat?”

He paused for dramatic effect before turning to face Benny directly.

“Is that your hidden intention? Your secret plan? To drain all of us, one by one, until you’ve had your fill?”

There was nothing but silence as the crowd waited for Benny to speak up, to justify himself, to defend his character against an onslaught of slander. But he found that he couldn’t fight the feelings of inadequacy that lay dormant within him. Even more paralyzing was the fear that, somehow, his subconscious vampiric urges really _did_ push him to come to Hogwarts, that he had lost control of himself, and that he was nothing more than a bottom feeder.

“Hey, all of you! Listen up, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once!”

Dean’s voice commanded the attention of every single person in the crowd, and when Benny looked up at him, he saw with no small amount of fear that Dean was very angry. There are some people that Benny had encountered that looked terrifying when they were angry, but all of them paled in comparison to Dean’s fury. He looked as though he would go to any lengths to keep his family and friends safe, even if that meant taking a few punches and giving some too. He looked angry enough to kill.

“You have a simple choice here, folks. You can either listen to good ol’ Slimeball here spout his horrible and insensitive rubbish, or you can look Benny here in the eyes and judge him yourself. I’m not saying to hate him just because he might be different, but go to him, spend a few minutes in conversation with him, and decide for yourself.”

Dean put his arm around Benny’s shoulders, still glaring at the crowd, and Benny couldn’t help but feel an upsurge of happiness that this boy was already sticking up for him as if he were his own brother.

“I know for a fact that the reason he came here is to figure out how he can use what magical gifts he’s got to make this world a better place, like the rest of us. So shaddup, and let the kid be. And if any of you has a problem with him, well, you’re going to have to go through _me_.”

There was no speaking after that, but as it turned out, there was little time to. A small cough had alerted all of the children to another presence, and when they looked, they saw a man standing at the front of the group, smiling nervously.

The man was middle-aged, though he looked very youthful for his age. He had black hair that was graying a little at the edges, and his green eyes conveyed a haunted wisdom that came from seeing too much at a young age. His robes were slightly rumpled, as if he had sprinted here from some other part of the castle.

“Um, hello. My name is Neville Longbottom, and I am the Herbology professor at Hogwarts, as well as the head of Gryffindor House, which is one of the four Houses that reside here. From here, you will be escorted into the Great Hall, where you will be Sorted by the aptly named Sorting Hat. When you are Sorted, you will be placed into one of the four houses: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

Benny felt a wave of tittering flow through the crowd at the mention of Slytherin, but a few people smiled proudly, as if they had already been accepted and that their path was already decided. He saw with no amount of surprise that Crowley was one of those people.

Professor Longbottom continued on, looking more and more excited as the moment neared.

“These people among you who are Sorted into your house become your family, and let me tell you from personal experience that the bonds you make will last far beyond your time at Hogwarts. I am just as close with my friends from Gryffindor now as I was years ago.”

He paused for dramatic effect, then broke out into a wide grin. Benny felt his heart jump into his chest, excitement fluttering in his insides like a bird ready to escape its cage. This was the moment, the defining event that would determine the next seven years of his life, and likely the next twenty after that.

“Well, then? LET’S GOOOOO!” Professor Longbottom shouted, and like the coach of a winning team, he sprinted down the hallway, a tidal wave of eleven-year-olds following behind him. As they ran, it occurred to Benny that this was probably a very unorthodox method of getting the first-years to let go of their anxiety, given it  seemed more pertinent to a sports team than an entire class of a wizarding school. But it was effective, and Benny ran with the rest of them, whooping and yelling excitedly as he did. He could hear everyone else yelling and laughing, and for a moment, Crowley didn’t exist and his vampirism didn’t matter. All that mattered was that this was the best moment of his life.

Soon, they reached a gigantic set of double doors made of solid oak. Professor Longbottom, a little winded from the frantic sprint through the halls, panted slightly as he made a motion with his hands to calm down, with gradual success. Eventually, everyone was silent, save for the wheezy breaths of a few who were not expecting a workout on their very first day.

Then, with another blinding grin to the mass of students, he pushed open the doors and led them into the hall.

To say the Great Hall was large was an understatement: it was massive. The majority of the hall was taken up by four extremely long tables with benches, and the majority of the seats were filled with older children of varying ages, shapes, and sizes. They were all differently colored, like the banners that floated above them. The red banner was adorned with the picture of a prancing lion, the blue with an eagle, and a yellow banner with what looked like a badger. Of course, the green banner for Slytherin was embroidered with a very suspicious-looking snake, and Benny wasn’t surprised to see that almost all of them looked at the newcomers with distaste. There was something paralyzing about being stared at by hundreds, if not thousands of people, but Dean’s presence next to his own was a comforting warmth that he practically clung to as they paraded down the middle aisle. Not only that, but the ceiling was a field of dark sky, glittering stars interspersed haphazardly around the indigo cloud.

“It’s enchanted,” Castiel said, and Benny almost had a heart attack. He had forgotten Cas was there, because he was so quiet. He laughed to himself as he heard Dean say, “We need you to get a bell or somethin’, so we know when you’re here.”

At the end of the aisle, there was a raised section where the teachers sat, behind a small pulpit where the headmaster would speak. The man in question sat in the middle of the table, and was remarkably young for someone in his position. From Benny’s limited vantage point, he could tell that he had brown hair, and that his eyes were cold and calculating.

The troop of students stopped at the edge of the raised section, and soon after, Benny understood why.

A simple wooden stool sat in the middle of the dais, and on top of it sat a withered and dirty hat. It was an old hat, and it had stitching done so that it looked as if it had eyes and a mouth. It was one of those hats that one looked at with derision and pity, and Benny thought to himself with mounting revulsion, _There is no way I’m putting that on my head._

Professor Longbottom stepped up to the stool, and placed an affectionate hand on the hat.

“This is the Sorting Hat. It has been here for hundreds of years, faithfully serving Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and has seen triumph and failure, from the Triwizard Tournament of 1995 to the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998, and events much older than these. Now, tonight, it serves its principal purpose of selecting which house each first year will belong in. But before we begin, he would like to say a few words.”

A ripple of confusion spread through the first years, and Benny had a sudden feeling that something either wonderful or terrible was about to happen.

The hat sat motionless for a few moments, and then, all in a second, the hat twitched and opened it’s ‘mouth’ and sang.

**A thousand years or more ago**

**when I was newly sewn,**

**there lived four wizards of renown,**

**whose names are still well known:**

**bold[Gryffindor](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Gryffindor), from wild moor,**

**fair[Ravenclaw](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Ravenclaw), from glen,**

**sweet[Hufflepuff](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Hufflepuff), from valley broad,**

**shrewd[Slytherin](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Slytherin), from fen.**

**They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,**

**they hatched a daring plan**

**to educate young sorcerers**

**thus[Hogwarts School](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/hogwarts/w_pl_hogwarts.html) began.**

**Now each of these[four founders](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html)**

**formed their own[house](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/hogwarts/houses.html), for each**

**did value different virtues**

**in the ones they had to teach.**

**By[Gryffindor](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Gryffindor), the bravest were**

**Prized far beyond the rest;**

**For[Ravenclaw](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Ravenclaw), the cleverest**

**would always be the best;**

**For[Hufflepuff](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Hufflepuff), hard workers were**

**Most worthy of admission;**

**And power-hungry[Slytherin](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Slytherin)**

**loved those of great ambition.**

**While still alive they did divide**

**Their favorites from the throng,**

**Yet how to pick the worthy ones**

**When they were dead and gone?**

**'Twas[Gryffindor](http://www.hp-lexicon.org/wizards/founders.html#Gryffindor) who found the way,**

**He whipped me off his head**

**The founders put some brains in me**

**So I could choose instead!**

**Now slip me snug about your ears,**

**I've never yet been wrong,**

**I'll have a look inside your mind**

**And tell where you belong!**

****  
  


The hat’s voice was deep and gravelly, but Benny admitted that it could hold a tune very well, for something so old. Granted, he thought the song was a little silly, but it served a purpose, and he was not going to question it.

Professor Longbottom clapped loudly, and very quickly after, the rest of the Great Hall was filled with the deafening applause. As he clapped along with the rest of them, Benny considered the possibility that this was more for the hat’s benefit than for them, but it mean no more than if the hat had sung a truly amazing song.

With a small flourish that drew some giggles from the first-years, Professor Longbottom withdrew a long scroll from the inside of his sleeves, and unrolled it. It truly was a long scroll, the ream of paper almost touching the floor when fully unraveled, and the size of the first-year class finally hit home for Benny.

“I will now read from the list in alphabetical order- I know, it’s long, but bear with me- and as I call your name, you will approach the stool, sit on it, and I will place the Hat on your head for your Sorting. It shouldn’t take too long, and I will begin promptly.”

Looking imperiously at the scroll, he said loudly, “JINA ANDERSON!”

A small, mousy girl with chocolate skin walked up to the stool, turning to face the crowd with a nervous frown. The Hat was placed on her hat and, after a few seconds, its voice emanated around the Hall.

“RAVENCLAW!”

A loud whoop came from the table under the blue banner, and Jina ran off to join her new friends. The list went on briskly. “Uriah Angelus” went to Slytherin, followed quickly by “Ian Aster” and “Chloe Ayers”. A few B’s were called, none of which went to Slytherin (two to Ravenclaw, one to Gryffindor), and then Charlie was called up.

She practically skipped up to the stool and almost slammed the old hat onto her head. Less than a second later, the Hat screamed “RAVENCLAW!”

Benny stifled a little worm of sadness in his chest as Charlie ran to her new family, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dean cheering along with the rest of them. When he caught Benny’s questioning look, Dean shouted, “It doesn’t matter that she might not be where we end up; we’re still friends!” Feeling a little ashamed at himself for being petty, he simply nodded and turned away.

His own worry was eating him up inside, even more so that Jo was placed into Gryffindor after maybe a minute of stalling. As she walked to a table that cheered so loudly, Benny felt a little sick inside. When they heard his name, when the word went around that he was a half-vampire, would any of them cheer for him? He knew Dean would, and Charlie and Jo and maybe Castiel, but that might not be enough to make him feel better.

He was still feeling nauseous when the names got closer and closer to his own. “Tessa DuMort” went to Hufflepuff, “Jeremiah Ender” to Slytherin, “Morgan Garrison” to Gryffindor, and “Jordan Karhnak” to Slytherin again. Jo was called up before Jordan Karhnak, and Benny found it to be no surprise that she was Sorted into Gryffindor.

And then his name was called: “Benjamin Lafitte”.

He broke out in a cold sweat almost immediately, and he struggled to move his suddenly-leaden feet. He could feel the eyes on him, all of them staring and whispering and judging. Benny was aware he was not moving, but he couldn’t move, not while the childhood anxieties reared their heads.

Benny was alone again, one in a throng of thousands who did not know him. They did not care about him, but they certainly cared about him. They noticed his skin, so pale in comparison to their own; they noticed his teeth, elongated canines just barely prominent; they noticed his gaze, always directed at the ground, away from prying eyes.

But then there was warmth.

It came from his shoulder first, an almost drowsy heat that swam lazily through his veins like a fire that didn’t burn. From there, it drifted into his arms and fingers, then his legs and chest and finally his head. Benny didn’t need to look to see it was Dean. He smiled to himself, a small blush creeping up his neck, and then he walked.

One foot up. One foot down. Rinse and repeat.

Slowly (or what seemed slowly to him), Benny reached the stool, sat on it silently, and let Professor Longbottom place the Sorting Hat onto his head. It was warm, probably from the last one hundred people who wore it, and stuffy. He almost sneezed, but the voice from inside the hat startled him enough the the need vanished. It was familiar, as he had heard it only minutes before.

_‘That’s right, little half-blood. I am inside of your head.’_

Benny wondered how much he could see inside of his head, and the voice responded ‘ _A lot, half-blood. I see quite a lot inside this little noggin of yours. There’s bravery, yes, unrealized but still there. Yet something is blocking it, something of your own invention. So Gryffindor is not for you, for they have the strength to knock down their own walls as well as the walls of others.’_

He gulped inaudibly, and the Hat continued to muse to itself.

_‘There’s quite a lot of cunning and intelligence in here, more than you let on. But there is no ruthlessness or drive to stand above the rest, the unenlightened, so Slytherin is out.’_

At this, Benny smiled and sighed in relief.

_‘Happy for that one, aren’t you? Good. Now, there is something in your head that overshadows all else. You try very hard to hold others in high esteem, do you not? You were raised on the belief that everyone is equal to you, and that even the worst people deserve a measure of kindness. You remember that incident at the store, don’t you? I bet you do, but there’s more. You were not born into Wizard royalty, and you were certainly not born into the middle class. You are poor in possession, but wealthy in patience and work ethic. Put all of them together, and you must be….’_

Benny knew the answer just as the Hat confirmed it aloud to the entirety of the Hogwarts student body:

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The Hat was taken off of his head and for the first time, when he smiled at the crowd, they smiled back. There were whoops and yells, laughter and cheers, and Benny Lafitte, who had never felt at home anywhere, felt decidedly the opposite.

He stumbled down from the dais, a silly grin on his face and a little more pep to his step. He walked over to the long table under the yellow banner, and sat down in the nearest empty seat. Someone stuck out their hand to shake, and when Benny returned the handshake, he was met with a smiling face with gray-ish eyes.

“Hello, Mr. Lafitte. My name is Ezekiel Acario, and I’m a first-year, like you!”

His voice was pleasant, a little rough, and quiet. For some reason, the eclectic mix was intriguing, and Benny found himself smiling even wider.

There was another tap on his shoulder, and he turned to see a brown-haired girl sitting next to him. Her smile was a wde as his, and she was wearing a yellow headband on her head that had a small black daisy in it.

“Hi, I’m Tessa. What’s your name?”

“Benny,” he answered, his grin only growing at her kindness. He shouldn’t have been surprised, considering Hufflepuff was the house of kindness and hard work, but it was so unorthodox for him. Just the few acts of kindness in the past few hours were more than he had received in his entire life, and he was not surprised to feel tears being to well up.

Tessa’s smile fell quickly, and a look of complete concern fell over her face at seeing Benny’s tears. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked, feeling very much as if she had done something to make him cry.

Benny shook his head, a pained smile still on his face. The tears were flowing freely now, and others had begun to notice in his vicinity.

“It’s just that…. no one’s ever been this nice to me before.” He said, his voice wavering a little.

Tessa’s smile returned, and she too began to well up a little. Sniffling, Benny wiped away his tears, forcing himself to store those feelings of happiness for later. He clapped with the rest of the table when people were sorted and cheered when they came to their table. He threw a glare at Scowling Girl and Greasy Boy, whose names had turned out to be Meg Masters and Crowley Masters, respectively. Benny should have known that they were twins, at least, as they both went to Slytherin House, which was unsurprising.

Castiel was called next, and stoically, he walked up to the hat and sat down obediently. The Hat was placed on his head, and then----

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table erupted into cheers again, and Benny couldn’t deny that this time, he was cheering louder than the rest. Castiel, always composed, walked somewhat stiffly over to the table, but Benny thought he saw his shoulders fall in relief. He was about to wonder why when he caught sight of the Slytherin table, where a boy with brown hair and almost golden eyes was glaring furiously at him. As Castiel neared the table, already quieting down in suspense for the next, Benny waved him over to their side, where Tessa introduced herself and they sat down.

He would’ve asked Cas about the boy at the Slytherin Table, but he never got the chance to. Time seemed to fly by, and all of a sudden, it was Dean’s turn. As his name was called, Dean practically swaggered up to the dais, eliciting a burst of laughing from the crowd and even some of the teachers.

Professor Longbottom placed the hat on his head, and----

Nothing happened.

Minutes passed, and the Hat had not spoken. Benny’s heart was in his throat as he watched Dean stare blankly at the crowd, his green eyes unfocused and glazed over. He knew he was talking to the Hat, but it didn’t take _this_ long, did it?

He heard Tessa whisper conspiratorially to him, “Ooooh, he might be a Hatstall.”

“What’s a Hatstall?” He asked, quite confused.

“It’s when the hat takes a long time to decide which house you will be in. My father, Professor DuMort over there-”- she pointed at the teacher’s table, at a tall, thin man with black hair and pale skin--”- said the most recent Hatstall in this school was Hermione Granger, and that was over ten years ago.”

“Oh.” Benny whispered, dumbfounded that of all people, Dean was the person to be the hatstall. He wondered what choices the Hat could possibly be torn between. It could be Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, definitely. Ravenclaw might be one of the choices, but Slytherin seemed so far out of the realm of possibility that Benny dared not even think of the potential chance that Dean would be put into the house of (what Benny had deemed thus far) jerks and bullies.

The silence continued to grow, becoming almost deafening as the time continued to bleed away. Benny watched as the sky seemed to darken even more through the windows, as the night continued to exercise its power over the Earth. It went on for so long that Benny almost forgot that Dean was still up there. So, it was understandable that he jumped when the Hat finally screamed its answer:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The resulting commotion from the Gryffindor table was one of the loudest noises Benny had ever heard, and his mind brought up images of plane engines, fire alarms, and even an exploding car to compare against it. Despite the heavy competition, Benny determined that the cheering from the table of Lions was definitely the loudest- and happiest- sound he had ever heard.

Dean smiled wearily, as if the whole exchange had taken days instead of maybe twenty minutes, and stumbled over to the red-banner table. Benny watched as his new friends, including Jo, gave him claps on the back, and then he caught Dean’s eye.

They stared at each other for a few minutes before Benny gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up. Dean grinned, and returned the salute with a rock on! gesture of his own, and he turned back to his new family.

The rest of the Sorting proceeded very quickly after that, given the Dean’s last name was very close to the end of the alphabet. Only a few people were left in the line and so, when Azazel Yancy, the Tall Boy, got Sorted into Slytherin, Benny didn’t have enough heart to be angry or even accepting of the Sorting; he was hungry, and he was tired.

Thankfully, the headmaster, Michael Milton, said only a few cursory warnings- mostly that the Forbidden Forest was forbidden for a reason, that the Third Floor Corridor was sealed off for repairs, and that the miniature swamp was not to be tampered with- before the empty plates and cups (maybe they were goblets?) were filled to the brim with food. As a result, the resulting feast was a bit of a blur for Benny, as he stuffed his face with roast chicken, pumpkin juice (which was surprisingly delicious), lasagna, some vegetables, and a bowl of vanilla ice cream. When everyone was sufficiently stuffed and lacked any indication to eat anymore, the prefects escorted the children out of the halls. Benny waved goodbye to Dean, Jo, and Charlie as they went to their respective dormitories, and followed a boy who was curiously named Cupid and a girl named Rachel as they chaperoned them to the dorm.

After a few minutes of walking and after descending a small flight of stairs, the group of Hufflepuffs stopped in front of a life-size still painting of a friar, who asked pleasantly, “Password?”

Cupid answered, “Babbling baboons” and the painting swung outward to reveal a small hallway. Rachel led them through while Cupid remained behind to bring up the rear, giving Benny a smile as he passed. Once everyone was through, he shut the door and returned to the group, who had emerged into the middle of a circular room lit by yellow lanterns. The ceiling was painted blue like the sky, and in the middle was a large lamp colored silver representing the moon. There were a lot of comfortable armchairs and couches and yellow wall hangings adorned the walls. A fireplace roared in the corner, and there were a number of small tunnels at the opposite wall, each lit with two lanterns.

“This is the Hufflepuff Common Room, where you will spend the majority of your time when not in classes or on break. It’s decorated to resemble the outside world, and even though this dormitory is on the same level as the dungeons, it’s much nicer and a lot warmer.” Rachel said, winking at the first-years at the last comment.

“Obviously, you know the history of our House- sorry, your house, as well as the colors, so we can skip straight ahead to the part about dorms. As much as we believe all of you are kind and innocent, we can’t take any chances so the dorms are separated between boys and girls.” Cupid pointed at the tunnels, continuing to speak.

“The girls dormitories can be found at the end of the tunnels marked with pink flowers, and the boys with blue. They are right near the bottom of the paths,, and on the walls of the tunnels if you need another reference.”

Benny looked and, sure enough, there were blue and pink flowers at the bottom of the walls, blinking at him like iridescent lights.

“Now, all of your stuff has been taken to your dorms, so there’s nothing else really to do except head on to bed. You guys need some rest, because tomorrow is going to be a hectic day.” Rachel said, smiling sweetly at all of them.

“Also, don’t forget to ask any of us for help if you need it; we aren’t considered the nicest House for nothing!” Cupid added, throwing a wink at the crowd. He motioned to the halls with the blue tunnels, and said, “Boys, with me!”

Benny said goodnight to Tessa, giving her an experimental hug (considering he had never hugged anyone before, much less a girl) and trudged slowly through the tunnel, not taking his eyes off of the luminescent flowers. They were a calming presence for him, and when Cupid pointed out the dorm door (which looked like the door to a Hobbit hole), he barely registered the older boy’s speech, and only grunted tiredly in response when he said goodnight.

He pushed to the front and opened the door, revealing a cozy dark interior with an old furnace in the middle. The beds were set partway into the wall, and every single one of them had a trunk in front of them. Benny followed the path of the circular room, looking for his trunk.

Finally, he found it, in front of the bunk furthest from the door. He shook off his robes, and got dressed in what he considered pajamas. Benny muttered a tired “good night” to the others before collapsing into the bed. It was the most comfortable bed he had ever laid down in, and it was only seconds before he fell into a deep, warm sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my pretties!
> 
> I will try and find a way to get my artworks of each person's wand uploaded or something like that. It might take a while to update this and my other story because of AP Exams and scheduling and what-have-you. To date, I have done Dean, Benny, Jo, Charlie, Sam, Jess, Tessa, Cas, and Michael's wands, and am focusing on making Ezekiel/Gadreel's wand!
> 
> Besides the fact that Gadreel's vessel in the show is attractive, I wanted someone to be in Hufflepuff because that House and Ravenclaw are somewhat empty; in fact, the only really full House is Slytherin, which is not a good thing ;) Besides, what Gadreel did, he did out of desperation and loyalty to Heaven, even if it made him more easily swayed to do wrong. *sobs quietly out of pity* Besides, Benny/Ezekiel is an out-of-the-blue pairing that i'm almost positive isn't very popular. So, yeah!
> 
> Anyway, I have already done Sam and Jess's wands, even though they come in around year 4, as I am sticking to the canon that Sam is four years younger than Dean. 
> 
> I will try to update as soon as possible, but wait for me, and I will make it worth your while in a totally-not-sexual way! 
> 
> P.S. As I said earlier, any fanart that just so happens to be inspired by this fic would be appreciated, and is optional!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAAAAAAAH! I'm so damn confused! I want this story to follow the gang's journey through their years at Hogwarts, but I'm not sure whether or not to go through all seven years or just to highlight on important ones! I have a great villain planned, and some relationships to entangle!
> 
> Anywho, here's some Benny-being-a-Hufflepuff, Garth-being-Garth-ish, and Dean-and-Benny-being-mischievous! Also, John Winchester being an asshole!

~Chapter 3~

In retrospect, laughing at Dean’s attempt to levitate a simple feather was not the best course of action, now that Benny thought about it.

Unfortunately, he was cursed with a perfect 20/20 hindsight, leaving him blind as a bat when he was in the moment. It wasn’t hard to see that Dean was not very good at Charms, and Benny knew why. Dean was too concerned with getting it done quickly, and he wasn’t concentrating enough. He was very easily frustrated, he could tell that much, and when he was, Dean looked like he was about burst a vein. His face would turn a humorous shade of vermillion, and his nose would scrunch up like he smelled something horrible.

It was a Thursday, almost the end of the week, and this morning in Charms, they were learning the Levitation Charm, known in Latin as “Wingardium Leviosa”. It required just the incantation and a swish-and-flick motion and the feather on their desk would float up into the air as if there was a string attached to it. All of the first years from all of the classes were practicing, and the room was so full of muttered gibberish and the occasional curse that concentration was difficult.

Benny himself was having trouble concentrating simply because of his best friend’s facial expressions. But, really, it never required a lot of concentration for Benny to lift the feather. In fact, Charms was his easiest subject so far, and it was the polar opposite of Herbology.

Dean huffed out a frustrated sigh as his feather, once again, shot off of his desk instead of floating upwards like he wanted it to. Benny, ever aware of his friend’s emotional difficulties, leaned over and whispered very quietly, “Try not to force it to float, and try to ask it to float.”

Dean’s incredulous look was the first warning that Benny did not heed.

“Really? Since when did asking for help turn into a philosophic debate?”

“Seriously, Dean. You’re not really concentrating on the magic; you’re concentrating on just trying to get it done quickly. You look like you are about to burst a blood vessel.”

“Can it, Lafitte. I’ll get it this time, I swear!”

Dean stalked off to get his feather, and when he sat down at his desk again, he shook out his hands. Grabbing his wand, Dean took a deep breath before glaring quite intently at the feather. He swish-and-flicked his wand, and said, _“Wingardium Leviosa!”_

Nothing happened.

Angrily, Dean repeated the prior process and ended up with the same result. Benny was trying very hard to keep in peals of laughter, and he was succeeding, but only just. Flashing a similarly intense glare at Benny, Dean tried one more time to no avail. In a fit of frustration, he simply jabbed at the feather with his wand and it promptly burst into flames.

Benny’s control vanished, and he started giggling uncontrollably. He made sure he wasn’t laughing too hard or too loud as not to attract attention, but it was so funny, his sides started to hurt from all of the laughter.

When he wiped the tears from his eyes, he was met with a terrifying sight: Dean truly angry. It was a sight he would remember for years after; the mere look of pure fury in Dean’s eyes was, at the very least, unsettling and, at the most, horrifying.

Without one word, Dean swished his wand and said through gritted teeth _“Wingardium Leviosa!”_  Benny’s notebook, which had been all but forgotten, wobbled slowly as if ascended into the air. Benny stared, amazed, as the book (which was much heavier than a feather) continued to follow its unsteady path upwards until it was close to the ceiling of the classroom. And then Dean let it fall.

Benny couldn’t even react fast enough, having put his wand onto his desk and his eyes glued to the miraculous path of the floating book. The book hit him squarely in the face, right onto his right eye. Pain blossomed instantly, and as the book clattered to the floor, he clasped his hand over his probably-black eye.

Immediately, Dean’s vengeful manner evaporated, and his eyes widened in despair. He started freaking out, saying various renditions of “I’m so sorry!” Even though Benny was not happy that his friend had intentionally dropped a book on his face, he felt a surge of happiness at his friends willingness to redeem his actions.

Dean gingerly peeled Benny’s hand away from his eye, and winced when he saw the damage. Despite Benny’s protests, Dean quickly raised his hand to get the attention of the professor, a small half-goblin Brit named Flitwick.

After a few seconds of fruitless waving, Professor Flitwick finally looked up, eyebrows furrowing in concern over his glasses that were perched precariously on his nose.

“Yes, Mr. Winchester? What is it?”

Dean gulped, and said, “I think Benny needs to see Madame Pomfrey, sir.”

“And why, pray tell, does Mr. Lafitte need to---”

“I got angry at him for laughing at me because I couldn’t levitate that dang feather, so I got really angry and levitated his book and dropped it on his head and now he has a black eye. I’ve already told him sorry ten times and I feel really horrible---”

Professor Flitwick stopped Dean’s panicked rant with a wave of his hand. After a few seconds of peering at Benny quizzically, which caused him to blush furiously, he sighed and said, “It would seem a good choice for you to be put in Gryffindor, to accept responsibility for your undoubtedly selfish action, and I agree that it would be wise for you to escort him to Madame Pomfrey for some ice.”

Dean nodded stoically, and with a slight nudge, ushered Benny out of the Charms classroom, making sure to block his friend’s view of the other students, who were staring at him. If there was one thing Dean was, it was perceptive, and he immediately realized Benny’s anxiety with embarrassing situations.

Shutting the door behind him, Dean walked besides Benny as they walked to the monstrous stairwell, and descended the stairs. They were mostly silent, no doubt out of Dean’s guilt about the whole incident, so Benny started talking.

“Hey, Dean?”

His friend didn’t answer, but looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Listen, I’m not angry with you about this shiner you gave me. It’s all good in my book. All I want to say is that when you levitated my notebook, that was the closest thing to awesome I can think of.”

He saw, out of the corner of his swollen eye, Dean start to smile, and that transition from gloomy to prideful was enough to make him smile even wider in return.

“Thanks, Benny.”

“You’re welcome, Dean.” They walked in silence for a few minutes until Benny said, “Just for your information, you look like you just got kissed by Crowley when you were failing to lift that feather.”

Dean gagged and snorted, pantomiming someone vomiting, and Benny dissolved into more laughter. Soon after, Dean followed suit, and by the time they pushed into the Infirmary, they were laughing so hard, their eyes were tearing up. Madame Pomfrey looked up to see the two boys, arm in arm and laughing, and shook her head good-naturedly.

“I sincerely hope you two won’t be in here very often. Now, who did what and why?”

The following afternoon, Benny’s eye had been sufficiently iced, and the swelling had gone down enough that blinking didn’t cause extreme pain, which was enough in the nurse’s book to allow him to attend Flying practice in the afternoon. Unfortunately, Dean had decided to take a nap, and Benny had been forced to ask another Gryffindor to let him into the dormitory so that he could fetch his friend. It had taken a while, but eventually, the older boy had relented and Benny rushed into the boy’s dormitory and woke Dean up. That took a while, because Dean was slow to wake, but in the end, they had sprinted all the way to the courtyard, where the class was being held.

They made it just in time, but not early enough to avoid the glare from the flying coach, John Winchester.

In truth, the flying lessons were less of an awkward father-son event rather than a one-sided-son-shaming. John Winchester was unusually and unfairly hard on Dean, even when he was doing his best. In truth, Dean was the best flyer in this particular class, much better than Benny and Jo and even Castiel, who was only a little worse than Dean. It took less than a minute for Dean’s broom to respond to Dean’s command of _“UP!”_ , whereas it took Benny nearly the entire class. He was lucky, though, that he was not the worst; he could have ended up like Garth, a second-year Ravenclaw who had to take the class again.

“Listen up. Today, you will actually be mounting your brooms and taking off without my undoubtedly necessary mid-air supervision, so no funny business.” Mr. Winchester stared stonily at all of the first-years, who had already learned that his teaching style was not encouraging but rather emotionally dampening.

“There will be no fooling around, no horseplay, no shenanigans, _nothing_ of the sort. As much as I enjoy flying- or enjoyed before I got grounded permanently- I understood the risks of death and partial head injury and potential to be a vegetable before the age of twenty. Now, I have done my best to prepare you in such risks, and as such, I believe that you are mostly ready to begin flying.”

Mr. Winchester blew his whistle, a sharp sound that almost made Benny’s ear drums implode.

“Call your brooms!”

A choruses of “UP!” resounded around the courtyard, accompanied by the success of most of the participants. Benny’s own practice broom was very obedient, and as he felt the sharp _smack!_ of the wood against his palm, he grinned.

Looking over, he saw Dean’s broom clasped in his hand, and a triumphant glint behind his eyes. Benny followed his gaze to Mr. Winchester, who showed no signs of proudness or even acknowledgement. His eyes were blank, and they skimmed over the first-years stonily.

“Now, you will mount your broom and you will be relaxed about it. If you jump on the broom excited, then it might interpret that as the command to take off. None of us really want to see you fall to your death from a height of thirty feet or higher, do we?”

At another blast of his deafening whistle, everyone who managed to call their brooms mounted, while the other stayed behind. Garth was, somehow, among the people who succeeded, but as he mounted his broom, he looked a little green.

“The only thing left to do is kick off, and you will be in the air, and that’s pretty much it. If you don’t manage to stay in the air for more than one minute, I will seriously doubt your ability to handle simple tasks and the like. I’m lookin’ at you, Fitzgerald.”

Garth turned an even brighter shade of green, but Mr. Winchester did not even notice. Benny was starting to get worried about Garth, as he seemed most at risk to injure himself out of all of the people left. He heard the sharp piercing shriek of the whistle, and kicked off.

The feeling of flying was something that Benny had not been accustomed to, but since the progression of the lessons, he felt more and more confident with the broom. It felt less finicky in his hands, and in turn, he felt much safer as he rose into the wonderful afternoon air.

It was surprisingly cool today, and the sky was devoid of all clouds, leaving the sun ample room to display its brilliance unhindered. The towers and walls of the castle were illuminated by the unfettered sunbeams, and the gargoyles seemed to scowl down at the ground, as if they were avoiding the sunlight.

As he rose, Benny carefully watched the others, searching for his friends among the ascending bodies. He caught sight of Dean almost instantly, his scarlet tie fluttering in the air as he waited for the rest, higher than all below him. Jo was harder to spot, but eventually, she swam into view, making her shaky ascent into the sky. Charlie’s bright red hair was like a beacon, and he watched as she rose confidently and smoothly, with Castiel right behind her.

He smiled at them, and as they returned his grins (although, Charlie flashed him a questioning look, no doubt about his black eye), Benny searched intently for Garth, who seemed to elude him. Finally, he caught sight of him, still on the ground, looking very intently at the ground.

He looked furtively around for Mr. Winchester, who was busy speaking to the other students, trying to instruct them as to how they should better call their brooms. They were not having much success, but his attention was divided, and no doubt he would yell even more at Garth if he saw him still standing on planet Earth.

Without a word to everyone else, Benny drifted smoothly over to Garth, leaning over his broom a little bit to descend to his level.

“Hey, are you havin’ trouble with your broom?” He asked nicely, not willing to make Garth feel even worse.

Garth shook his head, still staring at the ground.

“Well, what’s wrong?” Benny asked, sincerely hoping that he would answer him this time.

“I don’t like heights,” the Ravenclaw muttered, his face turning red for a second before paling back to a pale green. Benny felt a pang of pity in his gut for the older boy. Benny himself was not fond of social situations, and being shoved into one without a lot of preparation was a recipe for disaster.

He risked a glance at Mr. Winchester, and seeing him still talking to the others with his back turned, whispered to Garth, “I’m sorry, but you need to get into the air before Mr. Winchester comes back. You know how mad he’ll be.”

Garth winced before saying, “I don’t know _how_. I’m scared of falling, and Mr. Winchester doesn’t help that very much.”

“I know, I know. Listen, let me help you, okay? I’m pretty sure I’m nicer and much more gentle than Mr. Winchester, okay? Let me help you.”

The older boy seemed to pale even more, and as seconds passed, Benny became more and more impatient. But he did not say anything, because he knew it took time to overcome your own mind and make a choice that you were worried about making. Finally, Garth gave the most imperceptible of nods, and Benny grinned.

“Okay, Garth. you’re already mounted, so the only thing left is to fly. Umm… what’s your greatest memory?”

“Why?”

“It might distract you from your fears while you’re up there. Now, quick, we don’t have a lot of time!”

“Running in the field next to my house with my dog” he blurted out after a few moments. Benny felt very lucky; it was a memory that involved fast motion and the whipping of wind in your hair, almost exactly like flying a broom.

Except with a broom, you were in the middle of the air and your feet weren’t touching the ground and you could die from a fall.

“Okay, well close your eyes and picture that memory really vividly.”

Garth obeyed, his eyes scrunching up and his face set into a determined frown. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mr. Winchester begin to turn back to his group. Panicking internally, he turned to Garth and urgently whispered, “Now, _kick off!”_

To his surprise, Garth did not flinch or refuse to do anything or even react. Slowly, inch by inch, benny watched as his feet left the ground and as he rose until he was maybe a few feet off of the ground.

“Good. Now, open your eyes but _don’t look down_.”

Garth’s eyes shot open, and his face paled just before he calmed down, the reality of the situation hitting him square in the gut. Slowly, a grin materialized , growing wider and wider until he was full out beaming. Benny smiled as well, and coasted up and away slowly, looking over his shoulder for the Ravenclaw to follow him. Obediently, Garth ascended, faster and faster, until they reached the level of the other students, who were clapping and cheering. As Garth approached Dean and his friends, they swarmed around him, clapping him on the back and congratulating him on his successfully departure from solid ground.

Benny floated off to the side, smiling contentedly, and he caught Mr. Winchester out of the corner of his eye. The older man was staring right at him, a glare etched onto his weathered face. There was no trace of the impassive, stern man; instead, an angry man replaced him, and it was a kind of anger that spoke of future consequences.

Suddenly feeling very brave, Benny returned the glare with one of his own, before drifting off towards Dean, plastering a triumphant smile over his face.

The castle practically gleamed in the afternoon sun, the glass windows flashing intermittently like jewels. The stone towers cast welcome shadows over the courtyards, offering an escape from the heat, which students took advantage of. Benny saw a cluster of Ravenclaws huddled under the shadow of the Gryffindor tower, a circular formation of books sequestering them from the rest of the world. Further on, towards the tunnel that led to Hagrid’s Hut, he could see small forms meandering back and forth, walking to and fro in an untraceable pattern.

They floated up there, just the two of them, observing the steady ellipses that each student created. They flew one way, another way, a third way, everywhere. Some flew very fast, and other painfully slow. Benny was pleased to see that Garth had gained confidence, and he was one of the faster flyers.

“Good on you for helping him out,” Dean whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

“I’m not in Hufflepuff for nothing. Now, how about a race? Last one to Charlie does the other’s Transfiguration homework!”

Without waiting for an answer, Benny shot forward, the wind whipping at his hair and his yellow tie dragging in the wind behind him. He let out a whoop, and he dove towards the group of students, deftly dodging bodies. He heard startled yelps behind him, signalling Dean’s acceptance of the wager, and spurred his broom onward.

Charlie’s fire-truck red hair came into view, and the adrenaline was racing through his veins. Out of the corner of his eye, Benny saw Dean’s lean form gaining on him, slowly but steadily overtaking him.

The others who were watching had already taken small bets, verbal promises of homework or dares to eat a random Bertie Bott’s Every Flavoured Bean, and as the two racers neared the decided-upon finish line, they started cheering. In their minds, it was no longer a race between friends; it was a Quidditch Match in its own right, a showdown between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor to determine who was the superior House.

In the end, neither boy remembered who won. Benny was convinced that Dean had won and, by contrast, Dean was ready to abdicate the title of “winner” to Benny. Either way, both boys decided to do their own Transfiguration homework, assisting each other when the other needed it and goofing off every once in a while.

 **  
**As they walked back to the castle with the rest of their friends, laughing and smiling, Benny couldn’t help but feel so much better about himself and how utterly lucky he was to be able to experience this magical world, much less know about it.  Even the glare that John Winchester sent his way did little to dampen his mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am working on the next chapter, and feedback on how to proceed in regards to their school continuity would greatly be appreciated! Currently, they are in their first year.
> 
> Also, I am trying to make the whole wand-pictures-upload thing a reality, though I need to find my displaced camera.
> 
> And, as always, fanart is appreciated and feedback is welcomed!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I have uploaded all of the wands of all of the characters in the story onto a separate work entitled 'The Half-Blooded Pauper-- Wands', and it has all of the wands, including those of people who have not been introduced yet.
> 
> Also, I need to be frank with you people right now.
> 
> I have been using the wrong approach with the whole fanart thing, so here goes Plan B:  
> I would very much like it if you guys made some fanart for this fic. It would be incredibly awesome and it would make me do a few happy dances to see what you come up with. Besides, knowing that someone was inspired enough to draw a picture is an awesome feeling.
> 
> So there.

It was nine o'clock at night when Dean coaxed Benny into sneaking out of the dorms and going flying.

Granted, it hadn’t taken much convincing; for one thing, Benny was in almost every one of Dean’s classes, and his pestering had been incessant to say the least. He had sat through Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Singer, who was a gruff but endearing man, listening to Dean ask him over and over and over until he began to think of Dean like a broken record player- caught on the same track, unable to deviate until some outlandish request was met.

He had been very brave, taking Dean’s light-hearted taunts and whispers of ‘pleeeeease?’ for almost the entire day. But, just after History of Magic with Professor Binns, where he had almost fallen asleep to the monotonous buzz of the ghost’s voice, Benny acquiesced exhaustedly. Of course, Dean’s face lit up, and that made him a little happier, but after that class, he was pretty sure even an insomniac could fall asleep.

Dean had sat quietly through the rest of the day, but Benny could tell the excitement was eating at him because of the way his friend got really jittery and excitable. It was incredibly endearing, and as the after-hours curfew descended onto the castle, he too felt the stir of butterflies in his chest.

The castle was eerily quiet when Benny snuck out of the dorm, pulling the sleeping painting quietly closed. The painting snorted, and Benny froze in place, terrified that he was going to be caught and that he was screwed. Then the painting turned to the other side, eyes still closed, and the quiet snoring continued.

He let out a breath, and he almost screamed when he heard a whispered, “Jeez, how long does it take for you to sneak past people?”

Dean was standing behind him, his arms crossed over his chest, a slight smirk on his face. His green eyes were almost floating in the dark like two disembodied lanterns coaxing him forward. It was almost bewitching, though the word now seemed ironic.

“Dean! I almost had a heart attack!” Benny said, his hand plastered over his frantic heart.

“Whoops! If you up and died right here, I wouldn’t have anyone to drink butterbeer with and play pranks on Crowley anymore!”

Benny would’ve laughed, but he was still catching his breath from the near-scare before, so he settled for a smile instead. It was then that he noticed other shadows behind Dean.

“Who else is coming?”

There was a small, hushed chorus of comments in response.

“Seriously?”

“I thought vampires had better night vision than us lowly humans.”

“I don’t know why I’m here. We could be caught.”

He could call them out in a lineup with just their voices present. Grinning widely, Benny whispered, “Well? Now that we’re out here….” He paused, waiting for Dean to take charge.

Dean perked up, confused at first, but then he said, “I think we’re safe as long as we stay out of the moonlight and away from Filch and Mrs. Norris.”

They followed Dean as he walked down the hall and flattened against a wall before looking around a corner. It was pitch black, save for the few lanterns that remained lit. There was a lot of stumbling over each other and hushed apologies until Dean threw up his arms and said, “Benny, you have night vision, right?”

He nodded, suddenly prideful of his vampiric blood.

“Good. You can get in front and make sure the path is clear before we pass through, okay?”

Benny nodded soundlessly, creeping past Charlie, then Jo, then Cas, and finally Dean. They nodded at each other as he passed, as if they were in a war movie and that this was probably the last time they would see each other alive.

He peered around the corner, his eyes adjusting to the gloom almost immediately. The hallway was painted in various shades of gray, and pinpoints of white light alerted him to lanterns. Fortunately, there was no one there, and his ears picked up no footsteps coming from either direction.

Benny waved the group forward, taking up the rear as Charlie passed him, and they crept towards the Training Grounds, where they held their flying lessons. Each hallway was the same as the last until they were maybe one hallway away from their destination when Benny heard the subtle fall of a footstep against the stone.

He raised his hand, and everyone crashed into him. Benny had forgotten that they did not have any kind of night vision or even some sense of sight in this dark, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. He turned to them, and was met with similar expressions of confusion written on their faces.

“Someone’s coming!” He whispered, and almost immediately, they seemed to spring into action. Benny was suddenly struck with the thought that they had definitely done this before. It would’ve been a little insulting if he didn’t love them so much. Besides, he wasn’t exactly in love with the idea of sneaking around after-hours. Sure, it was fun, but he didn’t want anything more to add to his reputation other than being a half-vampire. He wasn’t exactly sure if Crowley would just let that slide.

They slunk into the shadows like cats, and Benny almost stayed still, until the footsteps got louder and his common sense kicked in. He lightly ran over to the corner, his own footfalls almost silent in the hall. With barely a sigh, he settled against the edge of the wall, the hallway easily visible in the corner of his eye.

There was no movement in the hall for a few moments, and all Benny could see was the moonlight against the stone. The sound of shoes against the ground got louder and louder, and second after second, Benny was starting to get worried.

There!

In the corner of his eye, a figure walked into the hall, carrying a lantern in his hands. His old, ratty coat hung to the floor, and his paranoid eyes skittered over the stones that were illuminated in the silver moonlight. The lantern shook haphazardly in his gnarled hands, and Benny held his breath, waiting for the man to pass.

A cat entered the hall behind the man, winding her way around his legs before walking towards Benny’s position. His heart began to dance a frantic samba in his chest as Mrs. Norris tip-toed nearer and nearer. She was notorious for ferreting out students who were out of their beds at night, and she always managed to alert Filch, who would explode into a triumphant rage. It was something he didn’t want to experience, but this whole situation was quickly overtaking that hope.

His blood turned to ice as the feline eyes neared and then, they stopped. They swiveled to the right, then to the left, and then straight forward, just to the left of where Benny was peering around the corner. It seemed as if time and space had halted their movement, and that all of his life hinged on whether or not Mrs. Norris saw him or not.

And then Filch cleared his throat, grunting just loud enough that everyone could hear, and Mrs. Norris turned around and followed his heavy footsteps as he walked away, down another corridor.

They waited until the orange light of the lantern faded from view before they all let breaths of relief. They reconvened in the hallway, catching their terrified breath. Charlie was the first to speak.

“Well, that was a close one.”

The rest of them murmured their assent, and Cas said, “After that little hiccup, are you ready to go back to the dorms now?”

There was complete silence, and Dean stepped close to Cas and, though Benny couldn’t see his face clearly, he knew that there was an expression of disbelief etched onto it.

“Go back? When we’ve come so far? Seriously, Cas. Where’s your sense of adventure, your guts? Do you wanna be the little Hufflepuff that stayed behind and never tried to do something reckless?”

Cas’s eyes were cold with anger in the dark, almost as angry as Dean was confused. He could see that they would start a fight if things didn’t get better soon, so Benny stepped in, pushing Cas and Dean away from each other. They had drifted closer through the little argument, and it didn’t bode well.

“Well, it really is too late to go back now, unless you want to get caught by Filch, Cas. I’m not really on board with this either. I would rather not get kicked out or expelled in my first year, and I wanna make this last as long as possible. But you also need to learn to relax a little. You’re eleven, you’re expected to get into some mischief before you grow up.”

Dean triumphantly snorted, and Benny turned to him, poking him in the chest.

“Don’t you make a fuss, Dean. You need to know that some people take longer to feel comfortable with some things, or that they might never get comfortable. Cas here might not want to do this again, and if you want to keep doing things, we’ll need to figure out other activities that, though maybe not as reckless as this, still fill that need for adventure.

So, are you going to put aside your little disagreement and follow me out there so we can fly on the brooms for a bit before we get caught standing here?”

It took a moment or two, but eventually, Dean nodded, Cas following his example. Nodding triumphantly, Benny turned on his heel and walked over to the edge of the corridor, taking one second to peek around the corner to see if Filch decided to make another round. Not seeing any light, he waved them forward, and they pushed through the doors at the end of the hall into the open air.

It was chilly outside, but a pleasant chill, and Benny felt his heart beat faster at the prospect of flying in this beautiful weather. The night sky was absent of all clouds, and the moon shone brilliantly like a silver medallion on an indigo blanket peppered with a million stars. The little shed with the brooms was on the other edge of the Training Grounds, and when Benny raced over there, he found it unlocked, and took out a broom. The others followed behind him, smiles barely containing their excitement.

Within minutes, they were all in the air- albeit, ‘in the air’ meaning ‘hovering a few feet off of the ground so that no one could see them and get them killed or worse, expelled’. Even though they weren’t fully in the air, it was still so exhilarating, more so because it was done clandestinely. As much as Benny didn’t enjoy the idea of risking one’s position at a magical school for a night of fun, it certainly made whatever they were doing more exciting, and even Cas couldn’t keep a small grin off of his face.

They might’ve stayed longer than they should have, as all of them were exhausted to the bone during classes. During Potions, Professor DuMort had to put out Jo’s cauldron because it caught fire when she put the wrong ingredient into the potion-to-be. She looked like death, humongous bags under her eyes, but she still managed to give Dean a solid punch in the shoulder when he told her.

Dean also suffered from their evening escapade, barely staying awake during Charms and actually falling asleep in History of Magic. Benny had to resist the urge to tickle him with his quill pen, but he was just as tired, and his arms just didn’t feel like cooperating.

Luckily, they didn’t have any flying lessons that afternoon, so all of them literally just found a shady spot in one of the quads and fell asleep. Cas conked out almost immediately, with Charlie and Jo following soon after. Benny made a bet with Dean that whoever fell asleep first would have to play a prank on Filch, but no sooner had he spoken than both of them had fallen asleep.

At dinner, they were sufficiently well-rested that they could last more than a few minutes without putting the butter knife onto the jello plate or taking a sip out of the wrong glass. Jo almost cut her hand when she was trying to cut up a piece of steak, but luckily, Cas was there to snatch the knife from her hand. Other than that, they were actually quite functional, but no one said anything about going out late again that night.

So, they all went to bed somewhat early, so much so that Cupid asked if Benny was feeling well (although, this question was slightly muffled, as Cupid had his arms thrown around him in a very uncomfortable hug). Benny replied that he was fine, and then bid everyone a good night as he stumbled to the dorms.

The next morning, Benny woke up to the pleasant and startling revelation that it was a Saturday, and that there were no classes today. Grinning widely, he fell back against his bed, and as the warm fog of sleep covered him once again, he decided he would enjoy this day.

He awoke a few hours later, feeling much more refreshed than he had since the night before he had allowed himself to be convinced to sneak out after dark. It was so amazing, that Benny could take for granted that power of a good night’s sleep. He felt so invigorated and full of energy, as if he could break down walls and silence people with a flick of his finger.

He could tell it made him more enjoyable as well, as he felt so unnaturally happy and unburdened by any sort of worry. It was so off-beat that when he sat down at the breakfast table, Dean turned to him and gave him a worried look.

“Dude, what are you so happy for?”

Benny shrugged, the smile still on his face.

“Well, I slept in and now I feel as if I could fly on a broomstick for three hours straight.”

“Let’s not do that. I’m still sore from our last excursion. Those brooms hurt, you know!” Dean said, making a pained face as he shifted on the bench to make himself more comfortable.

“Whatever, Whiny Baby. Have fun with your soreness. I’m gonna go get a book from the library.”

Benny got up, grabbing a few slices of toast as he walked, and waved a lazy hand in the air when he heard Dean say, “Nerd!”

Ten minutes later, he was curled up in the shade of an oak tree, a large book balanced in his lap. It was kind of old, with a cracked leather spine and strong-smelling pages. The cover was embossed with faded gold letters that read ‘Healing Magic’. It had caught Benny’s eye from the start, and he found himself irresistibly drawn to the old tome, and in no time at all, he had found himself walking to the courtyard with the book under his arm as if it had always been there.

It was strange, that someone of his nature would find an interest in healing magic. It was traditionally higher level stuff, the kind of spells you learned when you were older and less apt to botch the spell, but there was no harm in learning about them before it was necessary. Besides, he was a vampire who consumed blood for a living, and here he was, researching magical spells to erase injuries and to cure diseases.

Benny read for what seemed like an hour in silence, only the chirping of the birds keeping him company. The sun continued its slow but peaceful ascent, and gradually, the sounds of children laughing and talking became a backdrop against the quiet that he was enveloped in.

He had just finished a paragraph about the body and the best areas and situations to use each spell when he was suddenly doused in water.

Panic rose in Benny’s chest, as he had been holding the book in his hands when he had been drenched, and the ink was probably going to run off and oh God, this is a library book! He jumped up and ran to some spot in the sunshine, hoping desperately that the book was safe and unharmed. He looked down and saw, to his dismay, that the book was soaking wet, and the ink was beginning to blot and run off.

I am so dead! he thought. I don’t know how to fix this!

Then, without a word, a wand materialized in his vision, and there was a muttered incantation.

“Tergeo.”

The water seemed to almost reverse its motion, the pages drying up so quickly that Benny was reminded of those time-lapse photographs. The water lifted off of the paper in a thin stream, floating up towards the tip of the wand and disappearing into wherever magically-cleaned water goes.

He looked up, and was surprised to see Ezekiel there, his grayish eyes filled with barely contained fury. He caught Benny’s eye for a moment, and the anger softened to resemble sympathy before melting back into rage.

It was then that Benny heard laughter, the kind that sounded so out of place in the peaceful courtyard, and turned to find Crowley and his posse standing off to the side, holding their sides as they struggled to keep their composure. Meg was laughing loudest of all, and Azazel was following suit, his laugh sounding like a bleating goat. Crowley, however, was not laughing, and instead wore a smug smile on his face, as if he knew nothing would become of him.

Without a word, Ezekiel raised his wand and pointed it at Crowley. Benny was fortunate enough to see the boy’s face take a 180-degree turn from pleased to terrified before his friend flicked his wand at him.

There was a jet of nasty green light, and suddenly, Crowley was doubled over, looking as though he was puking. Benny felt a little bad for him, scared that he was actually throwing up. But then he looked closer. What was coming out of Crowley’s mouth was not this morning’s breakfast. It was a steady stream of slugs, glistening in the mid-day sun.

Meg immediately stopped laughing, haughtiness turning to shock as she stooped down to try to help Crowley. Azazel, ever the muscle, simply stood there, looking very confused.

Benny stifled the urge to throw up at the sight of the slugs, but before he could do anything else, Ezekiel whisked him away from the courtyard, leaving the trio of jerks to find their bearings, as well as helping their fallen leader.

“Dude, where are we going?” Benny asked as he was practically dragged down hallway after hallway and around corners.

“Away from there. Last time I checked, getting caught was not on my To-Do list.”

“What do you---”

“I just jinxed Crowley, and you were there. I think that keeping your name unblemished is a good thing, and being interrogated by a teacher as to why one student is throwing up slugs is not going to help that.”

They came to a stop in front of the Hufflepuff Common Room, Benny panting to catch his breath. Ezekiel was breathing hard as well, and he felt a sudden rush of gratitude for the quiet boy.

“Why?” Benny asked between breaths, feeling the pounding of his heart against his ribcage with every second. He was not accustomed to running so fast, especially not when he was being practically yanked through the castle against his own volition.

“Because-wheeze-what those guys did was unkind and unfair. *wheeze* Besides, I’m your friend, even if I-wheeze-don’t talk to you as much as I-wheeze-want to.”

Benny was touched by Ezekiel’s loyalty to him, and what he said rang true. He did consider Ezekiel his friend, but he agreed that they didn’t talk as much as they should. The same thought rang true of Tessa as well. Neither of them had ever been in the same company as Dean and his friends, but Benny felt, with growing confidence, that that would have to change.

“Thanks,” he finally wheezed, slowly feeling the air drifting back into his lungs. Ezekiel nodded and said, “You are welcome.”

He turned to go, but Benny blurted out, “Hey!”

His friend turned around, a quizzical expression on his face.

“What?”

“My friends and I are going to hang out with Professor Singer tomorrow. He promised to teach us some off-the-book stuff that could help us out if we ever got into trouble. He didn’t want a lot of people coming, so he told us not to tell everybody, but I thought that you and Tessa could tag along if you wanted.”

Ezekiel paused, and as he thought about the offer, Benny felt a weird fluttering feeling inside of his chest. It was like a bird flapping about in its cage, and it made his stomach stir and wobble. It didn’t make him feel sick, though; it was more anxious than sick.

Finally, he looked up and smiled at Benny.

“That sounds fun. I’ll tell Tessa and see if she can come!”

Benny grinned, the weird sick-feeling in his stomach dissipating like smoke in the wind.

“Cool! I’ll tell the others!”

Benny waved goodbye, and as he watched Ezekiel’s retreating form, he found himself smiling in spite of the events of only a few minutes before. It struck him that so far, this was the happiest part of his life thus far, and as he walked off in search of Dean and the others, he wished that it would last forever.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY! Some Gadreel/Ezekiel for the start! More will come later, especially since I feel the need to include him more often because of the most recent episode of Supernatural, which almost made me cry. 
> 
> For real.
> 
> I was hiding tears because I was not going to cry next to my brother and sister.
> 
> Also, yeah, I have something to confess: I'm switching away from the canon for one detail: Sam will instead be only one year younger so we can include him in the story sooner and so that it allows me to walk through all of the years without skipping over a few just to add some variety or else you would be stuck with three Hogwarts years of nothing but oblivious Dean, sexually-confused Benny, and some other useless pranks and shit.
> 
> Finally, this will be the last chapter of their first year at Hogwarts! I hope most of the chapters will follow this same progression, but later on, I will introduce the main villain of the story and then things will pick up.
> 
> Keep reading, keep writing, and always keep a spare container of salt ready for emergencies!  
> ~typewrittentragedian96


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, my lovelies! God, I sound like a predator....
> 
> Anyway, that finale, huh? As much as I would like to admit that it was a complete surprise, Tumblr and Pinterest ruined it for me, because I wasn't able to watch it until last night. so, there was a significant lack of surprise that I felt was necessary, especially for that finale. 
> 
> On another note, all of my currently-drawn wands have their own work! Check on my profile for the collection and please tell me if my wands look like shit or if they look amazing or if you have any specific comments on them!
> 
> And, here's the first summer that Benny experiences as a wizard!

Summer came very quickly for Benny Lafitte.

The year had soared by impossibly fast, and all of his recollections of the entire year were a blur of happy memories, hurried exams, Professor Binn’s monotonous droning, and the repeated taunts of Crowley. His incident with Ezekiel had not deterred the mean-spirited boy from continuing to make Benny hate himself every chance he got, even after someone who suspiciously looked like Dean gave him a broken arm and after he was on the receiving end of a Stinging Hex from a wand that resembled Charlie’s.

Ezekiel and Tessa had indeed accompanied the group to Professor Singer’s that next day, and from then on, they were considered a part of the group. They brought some fresh variety to the table, with Ezekiel’s quiet but intense nature and Tessa’s well-received ability to pull some compliments out of nowhere.

As a result, Benny learned about them a lot more over the course of the year.

Ezekiel was very private about his home life, but he was like Benny insofar as he was not the same as the rest of his family. The circumstances were different, though. Whereas Benny was a foster child who was shipped routinely from home to home, Ezekiel was part of a large family.

“I don’t see how that’s a problem,” Benny had once said to his friend while they were doing homework one evening.

“Well, it’s all really confusing. My last name is Acario, but that name is one of many who belong to the Angelus name. It’s kind of like my name is one of the spokes on an umbrella, or one branch of a tree. There are others at this school who are in my extremely large family, and most of them are Slytherins like Gabriel Novak. The only other member of my family that isn't a Slytherin is Castiel.”

“Wait, you guys are related?”

“Yeah, but its really minimal. We’re more like extended cousins than actually related by blood. Also, the Headmaster is in the family too; Milton, his last name, is one of the older names in the Angelus family, and one of the wealthiest.”

Benny had stared slack-jawed at Ezekiel before asking, “I’m not sure if you answered my question.”

“Oh!” Ezekiel said softly, and thought about it for a moment. Then, he turned back to Benny, and his eyes were full of sorrow.

“I’m not like my brothers and sisters and cousins at all. They are all driven, ruthless, and cunning, which makes sense, considering they’re all in Slytherin. I am not any of those things. If anything, I’m just confused. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be: what my family wants me to be or who I am. Besides, I’m a Hufflepuff, and they are looked down quite a bit in my family.”

He looked down at the end, having withdrawn into himself. After a moment’s hesitation, Benny had given him a huge hug, sensing that the other boy desperately needed it. Ezekiel had stiffened up a little at first, but then he settled into it, and it was then that Benny realized how well they both fit into their House.

Tessa was a lot more open about who she was. She was a little proud sometimes, but that was what everyone expected from the daughter of a Professor and a Head of House. However, no matter the day, she was always resolutely kind and gentle, with a laugh that sounded to Benny like the chirping of birds or chime of bells. Her brown hair was always straight, and she never failed to wear her yellow hairband with the black daisy.

She came from a wealthy and revered family in the Wizarding world, the DuMorts. They were all somewhat distant but they were generous and kind when they got the chance to be. They were heavily involved in politics and banking, but everyone knew that the family was very closely related with death. Granted, their name meant “of Death”, so it shouldn’t have been hard to guess. The family itself had a lot of wizards and witches in the past who always seemed to cheat Death herself, and so, they were rumored to be in close acquaintances with it.

“My family is no less lucky than any other family,” Tessa had once exclaimed. “Where others are good with money or with power, we are good with staying alive.”

Her wand was also an heirloom from her family, with the unusual core of a Thestral hair, just like the Elder Wand that had been destroyed by Harry Potter at the end of the Battle of Hogwarts. The wand itself was made of a dark elm, and it was very elegant. Tessa had explained that it was passed down from generation to generation, but that she was the only one who the wand had chosen since the 1800s.

“I hate it, though,” she had said. “Being special. It always sets me apart, and I just want people to know me because of what I do now, and not where I come from.”

All of the group had agreed emphatically, and she had been welcomed almost instantly.

The school year went by quickly after that, and by the end of the year, Benny was not looking forward to returning to Louisiana. The thought of being confronted by someone and being called a blood-sucking fiend was not comforting to say the least, and as the final day of the year crept closer and closer, Benny began to get more and more worried.

There were two days before the last day when Benny was saved.

He had been sitting under that same oak tree he had been sitting under for the entire year. Benny had become somewhat attached to the tree, and eventually, it became the staple for Dean and Co. Whenever they weren’t in class or sleeping or eating, they were under the tree, talking about anything and everything that an eleven-year-old group of children could talk about.

The sun had been out and it should have been a nice day, save for the overly-damp grass and the dripping leaves from the storm last night. Each drop glittered in the sun, sending small flashes of light dancing across Benny’s vision.

He was mostly alone, save for the few students that walked in and out of the courtyard, sparing only a parting glance at the half-vampire staring at the tree. Most people were familiar with Benny, but not a lot of them talked to him on a regular basis. They were still wary of his nature, but he held up confidence that they would come around before he graduated.

He hadn’t heard Dean when he walked up to him, but he didn’t flinch when he spoke.

“So, uh, got any plans for the summer?”

He shook his head, not really willing to talk about it. There was silence from Dean, and he took it as a cue to speak.

“I was plannin’ on goin’ back to New Orleans. Not really lookin’ forward to it, though. Not a lot of good memories.”

If Benny had turned around, he would’ve seen the radiant smile on Dean’ face, and he would’ve been vastly confused.

“Well, my mother pulled some strings, and I think we have a room open for the summer, if you wanted to come stay with us.”

Benny was stunned, shocked into silence at the pure kindness that radiated from the boy behind him. Slowly, he turned, an expression of surprise frozen onto his face. Dean was practically jumping up and down in excitement, though he could detect a hint of anxiety underneath. He was worried that his best friend would refuse, and as much as Dean hated to admit it, he would feel crushed if Benny’s answer was a ‘no’.

Slowly, a smile grew wider and wider until Benny was full out grinning. Dean’s uncertain smile, which had materialized when Benny had not answered, reverted back to a childish smile full of excitement of the summer to come.

“Really?” he whispered, unsure if this was just a dream and all of it would come crashing down.

Dean nodded animatedly, and said, “Yeah, really! She works in the transfer program and when I mentioned that you are a foster kid and that you lived in Louisiana, she said it was preposterous- or something like that- that you were forced to go home. So, being the awesome mom she is, she managed to get you transferred to our care for each summer until we graduate!”

It was perfect, something that Benny had not anticipated could even be remotely real. Perfect used to mock him, the tantalizing thought of being accepted by everyone and being successful in every single way nagging at him every chance he got. Besides, when you live in the 21st century, which is practically filled with endorsements by perfect people and societal norms to be as close to perfect as possible, it’s hard to live up to any expectations at all. Because of that, he had always hated the word perfect, and the ideas that came with it.

But now, it actually made him happy instead of sad, and it all just brought the magic of this whole experience to a head.

He felt his eyes tear up from joy, and then he was crushed by a bear-hug from Dean. He let himself get enveloped in ropy arms, but before he knew what was happening, there were other bodies pressed against his own, much more than Dean. For one thing, he was sure that Dean hadn’t sprouted red hair, and also didn’t change his eye colors from green to gray.

When the group hug disbanded, they talked for a little more, and both Dean and Benny were surprised to find out that not only did Jo and Charlie live on the same street, that Ezekiel and Tessa lived only a few blocks away, in the more wealthy part of the same neighborhood. It was as if the stars had aligned and the gods of luck had thrown all they had at the universe, determined to make Benny’s summer the greatest summer he had ever had.

A week later, he was in a primarily wizarding-populated suburb maybe twenty minutes away from London, staying in a small house with a white paint job and a look that was distinctly not British. Benny didn’t know why, but the house was decidedly American, with its distinct lack of brick and its mundane structure. It seemed completely different from the other houses, as if someone had simply picked up the property and plopped it down in the middle of Britain.

It was very homely inside, without any extraneous trinkets or intricately carved banisters, as some homes were wont to have. There was a living room right off of the stairs, a dining room behind it, and a small room with a washing machine and dryer set that looked like it was from a John Hughes movie. Up the stairs were the bedrooms, four in all: one for Mary and John, Sam, and Dean, as well as an extra that served as a guest room.

The guest room was painted a light blue, like the sky, and it was a simple room with very little inside. There was a nice queen bed in the middle, a white dresser, an end table, a closet that was mostly empty, and a window on the right wall that looked out onto the street and lawn.

That was where Benny stayed that summer, in the Robin’s-Egg Room, as Mrs. Winchester like to call it. He found very quickly that she was where Dean got his more caring traits. If there was a problem, she was there, eyes filled with determination and a smile on her face. She handled every situation, whether it was a problem or not, with extreme calmness and efficiency. When he had first arrived, he was worried that he would intrude into their lives and that it would be an awkward event for all. Immediately, as soon as he stepped into the house, Mary walked over to him from the kitchen and gave him a hug.

“You must be Benny, right? Dean’s told us all about you in his letters home, and I must say, you seem like an awesome kid.”

Mary’s voice was soft and gentle, but Benny was not deaf to the undercurrent of confidence that he knew would turn to determination when the situation called for it.

“Thank you, ma’am, for allowing me to stay here over the summer.”

Mary beamed at him and said, “Such manners! Truly a Southern gentleman. I’ve tried to cultivate such politeness in my own children, but it’s been a long journey….”. She gave a pointed, yet warm-hearted glance at Dean, who shrugged and blushed sheepishly.

“Never mind that! Welcome to our home, and its yours as long as you need it.”

Benny smiled then, a bright smile that seemed to split his face in half. Mary’s face broke out into a similar

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’! Now, I understand you have some special dietary preferences…..”

Later that day, he was sitting at the dinner table with the Winchesters, having unpacked and settled in for an hour or so before Dean had dragged him to their backyard to throw a baseball around. They had come in sweaty but smiling, and with a stern “Now, you better wash your hands before you sit down!”, they gathered at the dinner table.

At the respective heads sat Dean and John, with Mary sitting next to her husband and Sam next to Dean, though tonight, the older boy made Sam, a year younger, move to the right a little so that Benny could have some room at the table. They were eating lasagna, one of Benny’s favorite foods, and while he was practically raised in a culture of good food, even he admitted that Mary Winchester’s home-cooked dish was better than any other one he had ever eaten. Benny told her so, and she blushed violently before thanking him for his flattery. After that, she brought out dessert, which was a warm and piping apple pie. Benny had to stifle his laughter when he saw Dean practically jumping up and down in his chair, and as a result, was barely able to sputter out a ‘thank you’ to Mrs. Winchester as she placed a generous helping in front of him.

It was silent, save for the clinking of forks against plates, and the occasional moan from Dean, who looked as though he was enjoying his pie way too much. Sam already had some of the innards of the glorious treat smeared on his face, quite similar to Dean, and they both wore expressions of pure bliss in their eyes.

Then, John Winchester spoke up.

“Do you have control over your urges, Mr. Lafitte?”

Dean bristled immediately, and Mary sighed exasperatedly. She tried to say something, but John looked at her sternly before repeating his question.

“Do you have control over your urges, Mr. Lafitte?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, sir.” Benny said, thoroughly confused. He took a small peek at Dean, and saw an expression of stone on his face, as if he was hiding his anger. Sam looked the same, but he was more confused than angry.

“I mean, will you be feeding on any of my boys here?”

Affronted, Benny said, “No, sir. Why would I do that?”

“Well, you are part-vampire, and no offense, but every experience I’ve had with your kind have not been pleasant and ended up being quite messy in the end.”

“John!” Mary said, shocked that he would bring up something so morbid in front of an eleven-year-old boy. Frankly, she should’ve expected this, but she was kind of wondering if her husband would do the sensible thing and ask him later, maybe in private. But, of course, her husband’s paternal instincts kicked in immediately, along with some of the Auror remaining in his heart.

Benny bristled at the remark. He knew it was an insult, even if he wasn’t a full vampire. It still held the same malice that came from being called a bloodsucking fiend and baby killer.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Winchester.” he said through gritted teeth. “The urges are small, and they don’t come very often.”

John looked unconvinced, brown eyes glinting like bronze in the glow of the ceiling lights. Benny knew it was only natural for a father to protect his children and make sure they were safe. But this, this seemed more like a retaliation from an insult, as if his own presence was a blemish on the family name.

“We have blood packets, John. They are easily available, and they are fresh from the hospital. Why are we even having this conversation? We’re prepared, and I don’t think that Dean would ask us to have his friend here if he didn’t trust him completely. So, please.” Mary said, placing her hand over John’s placatingly. Benny felt a small twinge in his chest at the gesture, so intimate. He felt as if he were intruding into something special, and he blushed a little. He had never seen anyone do that before, as most of his foster families were run by a single mom.

He stared at her for a while before sighing, and he turned to Benny, brown eyes meeting bluish ones.

“If there are any problems with your urges, you come to us immediately so we can handle them. Otherwise, I may have to rethink Dean’s decision to bring you here. I will not have my family put in danger by a stranger.”

The threat could not have been clearer, but it signaled an end to the conversation, so for that, Benny was happy.

He nodded gratefully, and said, “Yes, sir. You will be the first to know.”

The tension drained out of the room almost immediately, and there was a collective exhale form all parties, save for John Winchester. After rubbing her thumb over his hand a few times, Mary cleared her throat and said, “It’s getting late. Why don’t you boys head on up to bed, hm?” The command was heeded, with hurried ‘goodnight’s and the rinsing of their plates in silence.

Benny followed the boys upstairs, watching as Sam departed his room, but not before receiving a hug and a mumbled ‘goodnight’ from him. He walked to his own room in contemplative silence, thinking over the conversation that had just transpired as he brushed his teeth and got dressed for bed.

Am I really that big of a threat, that Mr. Winchester had to practically interrogate me at the dinner table, in front of everyone?

It definitely seemed so, and that drew another line of thought from Benny’s subconscious. He wondered if the older man’s hatred of him came from encounters with vampires when he was an Auror. He had said that the interactions he had had with vampires had ended badly. That opened up the possibility of his friends and family being killed by one or more of his ancestors. He felt pity if that was the case, but Benny still thought that he didn’t deserve such an attack on his character. Like Mrs. Winchester had said, he was eleven; what harm could he possibly do?

He went to be soon after, his eyes drooping lower and lower in synch with the moon’s rising into the ebony sky.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAAAAAAAY! Dean being a good person!
> 
> I had fun writing this because I really wanted to make John Winchester seem like an asshole (because he is one; I mean, he abandoned his children and emotionally stunted the one that stayed behind). I like giving my characters someone to hate, and i think it drives a lot of Benny's character to have him question his feeding instincts and if the vampire is in control and not the human.
> 
> As always, fanart is appreciated and preferred!
> 
> Keep reading, keep writing, and always keep a container of salt nearby for emergencies!  
> ~typewrittentragedian96


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovelies!
> 
> I've been hard at work on my other fic, because I have a policy that I always write one chapter ahead so that I still have room to space out updates without having to create a new chapter every single week. But, do not fret! I shall continue to update as long as you keep reading! 
> 
> Update on the characters: I have decided to change Sam's age to only one year younger, because it introduces him into the main plot quicker, and I think that it would help move the story along. 
> 
> Here's Part 2 of Benny's Summer before Second Year!

The next month passed without incident, though Mr. Winchester kept him at arm’s length at all times. It exasperated Mary without end, but she managed to pick up her husband’s slack in the hospitality department. Every day, she made sure that Benny was happy and fed and always included in the family activities. They went to the city one day, showing him all of the coolest sights and the necessary shops in order to have a good time in a city he didn’t know.

His first impression of London was that it was sort of gloomy, all day, every day. There were very few days when the sun was out, but even on days that were overcast, he still loved every second of the city. The noise of the traffic took some getting used to, but eventually, it faded into the background until he never really heard it anymore.

They visited Buckingham Palace (which Benny thought looked like an enormous waste of money, even if it was a beautiful waste of money), the Eye of London (which Dean refused to get into on the grounds that he would puke), Big Ben (which everyone agreed was awesome), and the Sherlock Holmes Museum. The last sight was Sam’s pick, having already read the first three stories in the series and developed a connection with the fictional consulting detective.

There was little doubt in anyone’s mind that he would be Sorted into Ravenclaw when he arrived at Hogwarts later in the year, and surprisingly it was fine. Benny had been worried that the Winchesters were like Ezekiel’s family because they were both pure-blooded, but they were very tolerant and accepting of everyone, save for Mr. Winchester.

As it turned out, the Winchester family was very spread out among the board in regards to Houses. Mary’s side was peppered with Gryffindors and Slytherins alike, while John’s was more limited to simply Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, though the former was in a greater quantity. They had met when they were in their sixth year, and it had been love at first sight. Mary and John had both been Gryffindors. Later, when they graduated, they moved to America once again to try and work with the Ministry of Magic there. However, it didn’t really hold as much excitement and interest as Britain’s Ministry held, so they moved back there for good.

Whenever they were not in the house, hanging out or playing in the backyard, they were over at Jo’s or Tessa’s house. Their residences were the polar opposites of the other: the Harvelle household was a plain, unassuming residence with a warm and cozy interior, while the DuMort mansion was dark and very large. However, both houses were still opening and welcoming, and for some reason, neither Ellen nor Thanatos ever seemed to tire of the children.

One morning, towards the end of the second month of summer, Dean and Benny raced down the stairs, Sam at their heels. As the others got their shoes on, Dean yelled up to their mother “We’re going to Tessa’s house!”

“Don’t overstay your welcome! Oh, and make sure to call me if anything is fishy!”

“Okay!” Dean yelled before they all screamed a ‘See you later!’. With a whoosh, the front door was open, and the three boys practically shot down the street, whooping and laughing. Today was a sunny day, one of those days where it isn’t too hot or too cold, the perfect day to go swimming in the lake behind someone’s house- namely, Tessa’s.

Slowly, her house swam into view, a brick edifice that seemed to reach up to the heavens. It wasn’t black, per say; the majority of the exterior of the house was brick and open windows. The door and the shutters were the only black objects, but they held a weight behind them that surpassed the lightness of the rest of the house. Inside, it was warm and dim, and there were a lot of rooms that looked as though they could hold treasures beyond Benny’s wildest dreams inside. A few of the rooms were always locked, per Mr. DuMort’s instructions: he was the Potions master, and those rooms were either small laboratories with cauldrons and fires or they were storage rooms for potentially dangerous substances.

Professor DuMort, first name Thanatos, was a quiet but gentle man. He was not overtly stern or cold, but when he gave orders, they were taken into consideration at the least. He took his work very seriously, and as such, maintained strict rules regarding any beakers, substances, or artifacts in the house. They could not be touched or those responsible would at the mercy of a Caterwauling Charm that was placed on them.

Otherwise, he was as hospitable as Mrs. Winchester, and he managed to take care of every single visitor by himself. Tessa’s mother had died during childbirth, but there no overwhelming sense of sadness in the house, and it didn’t truly feel as though the small family harbored any morbid fascination with death.

They had an amazing backyard, a sprawling landscape that had a lake in its center. It was meticulously groomed and taken care of, with a variety of both dark and light flowers. Daisies and sunflowers rubbed elbows with nightshade and belladonna, and black roses peppered the sea of colors intermittently. There were more flowers in this one garden than benny had ever seen in his entire life. He had said as much to Mr. DuMort, who had only smiled and said in his quiet voice, “Cultivating beauty has its own rewards, proportional to the amount of effort you put in. This patch of flora requires a lot of effort, so, in return, they give me so much more than a pretty sight.”

The swarm of flowers petered out towards the shore of the lake, which dipped a little lower than the rest of the property. The banks of the lake were cool, but sturdy, and there was a significant lack of mud, even in the rainy periods. It made for solid ground and almost eliminated the need for the washing of feet. It was a dark lake, but not suspiciously so; it was calm and peaceful, not at all ominous.

Dean had once said, in a moment of privacy, that the lake kind of gave him the shivers. Benny, despite his acknowledgement of its beauty, had to agree. There was just something about not being able to see the bottom that instilled a primal fear into Benny’s heart. Nevertheless, it was fun to play in, and by this point in the summer, they had learned to know the lake inside and out.

They reached the backyard quickly, pausing just long enough to say hello to Professor DuMort, who was dressed in a white shirt and a pair of brown pants, a trowel in one hand and a set of vials sitting close by. While the other pushed ahead, Benny stayed long enough to politely enquire about what the Potions master was harvesting today.

“I’m pulling up weeds, mostly, but I only need a little fluxweed for the stores at Hogwarts. It’s commonly used for Polyjuice Potions…..”

After a little more explanation of the properties of fluxweed, Professor DuMort good-naturedly sent him off to the lake, to have fun with the others, but not before praising him for his politeness. Benny smiled, gave him a little wave and a ‘thank you’, and then he was off, bare feet barely touching the soft grass. As he ran, he took off his shirt and wrapped his wand in it. The ground turned to cool mud and Benny deposited the bundle under the old oak tree that sat next to the lake, alongside all of the others’ stuff.

Tessa was already in the lake, a pretty blue swimsuit on, and she was currently fighting a losing battle against both Sam and Dean, who were splashing her mercilessly. Jo, Charlie, Cas and Ezekiel hadn’t arrived yet, so that left Benny himself to defend his House-mate in the obviously one-sided water war, and he sprinted into the lake, launching himself at Dean for a good-natured tackle. They both fell into the shallow water, struggling and giggling as if nothing was better than this. After a few moments of wriggling and splashing, the boys managed to untangle themselves, and the fight resumed.

The rest of the group showed up a little after, and soon, the excited whoops of children filled the summer air. It was an infectious noise, the delighted shouts of kids: it brought back memories of an older, simpler time, when things weren’t so ominous and dark.

Professor DuMort watched them from the sidelines, his work momentarily forgotten as he beheld the wonderful sight before him. He watched carefully at each child’s face, searching for one shred of cruelty and finding none. Tessa’s face was the brightest of all, her smile so wide and her eyes so full of life that she looked like a sunbeam come to life.

He loved seeing her like this, so full of joy. Her mother’s death, though too early for the child to remember, weighed on her heavily, and she used to sit for hours just staring at the still painting of her that hung in the living room. Thanatos had strictly forbidden a moving portrait like the ones at the school because, at the time, he had been so distraught that he believed anything resembling her alive would make him feel worse.

He had been partially worried for her as she grew up that she would be withdrawn and shy like him, and Thanatos DuMort remembered how difficult it had been to make friends. Hell, it was still difficult, but much less so.

But, nevertheless, his fears never came to pass. Tessa became a champion for the small children in the neighborhood, and her smile was almost always on her face. She resembled her mother in that sense, that she could make anyone smile. It was because of that that he had  found himself happy for his daughter in her Sorting, despite the fact that he was the head of another House.

Eventually, the children tired of playing in the water, and as they traipsed up the small hill to Professor DuMort, he thought to himself, Something terrible would need to happen if there was ever a sliver of a chance that these children would abandon each other.

Tessa walked ahead of the group, wearing a slightly guilty look on her face that she got when she wanted to ask for something. He smiled to himself as he put down his trowel, wiped his hands on his white apron, and turned to his daughter.

“Father, would it be okay if we went inside for lunch?”

He feigned thoughtfulness for a moment, silently enjoying her anxious bouncing before smiling warmly and saying, “Of course. I will be along in just a minute to fix you children something.”

All of the children broke out into relieved grins and they stampeded towards the house. Arching his head towards them, he yelled, “Don’t forget to towel off before you head in! We don’t want anyone slipping!”

True to his word, Professor DuMort came inside one minute later on the dot. The children, already dry and suitably dressed, were waiting at the kitchen table eagerly but politely. With a wave of his wand, the Potions master turned the kitchen into a whirlwind of activity. Dulled knives shot out of the drawers smoothly but quickly, and the refrigerator opened of its own accord, allowing the jars of jam or jelly to contribute. The breadbox opened on its own as well, paving the way for the bread.

Within minutes, eight peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches were made, with two of them set aside with jam for Tessa and Charlie. They meandered slowly over to the table, giving time for the plates to settle in front of each child. Glasses of milk were already there, having been the first items to be completed.

All of the children chirped a ‘Thank you, Professor!”, to which Thanatos smiled and bowed good-naturedly.

Then, making sure the napkins were in their laps, the kids set about consuming their lunch. Every child had their eating habits, and not one was like the other. Cas ate quietly and politely, taking minute bites and swallowing each bite with a sip of milk. Ezekiel was almost the same, save for he chewed for a very long time. Charlie ate quickly, but neatly, and Tessa was only a little faster. Sam and Benny ate slowly, though Sam was a little neater (to Benny’s slight chagrin). Dean was the most vocal about his food, making appreciative moans and sighs throughout the meal. He was also the messiest, but neither of those traits managed to detract from Dean as a whole. He was still loved by everyone, and he always managed to compliment the chef as profusely as if he had eaten some formal dish as opposed to a simply PB&J.

Afterwords, the children excused themselves back outside, with another round of ‘Thank you’s to Professor Thanatos, who smiled once again. They were all tired of the water, and there was no doubt that swimming without waiting for thirty minutes attracted kelpies (even if Benny suspected otherwise). After a few moments of pondering, they all decided on playing Hide-And-Seek in the woods next to the lake.

Dean was elected to find a suitable amount of sticks to draw and, after a few minutes of searching, he returned triumphantly, eight sticks in his hand.

“Whoever gets the shortest stick, has to find the others!” he said, and Benny noticed that all of the sticks seemed to be the same height. It was intentional, as not to show which stick was the shortest or longest in an effort to make it more fair.

Each child picked a stick out of the group until there was on stick left in Dean’s upturned fist. On a count of three, they all held up their sticks so that the length was obvious. Benny, to his dismay, found that his stick was the shortest, only narrowing beating out Jo, who sniggered good-naturedly.

“Go count to fifty!” Sam yelled, and as he turned around, Benny heard the pitter-patter of footsteps going away into the forest. Sighing, he put his arm over his eyes and leaned against the trunk of the oak tree.

“One, two, three….” he counted loudly, hoping to God that they could hear him and that they wouldn’t make him start over.

At fifty, he turned and surveyed the area. All of them had gone into the forest, that much he knew. It was a light-filled forest, not dangerous at all, save for barbed plants and the occasional anthill. Tessa knew that place by heart, and so did Dean, because they had all hiked through there for hours, playing soldiers in a war against the now-dead Dark Lord.

Benny pushed through the foliage until he reached a clearing. There was a small creek that wound its way through the middle, and sunbeams poked through spots in the foliage above. There were a few broken trees on the perimeter, and hundreds of small pebbles. He lifted his nose into the air, and with a sniff, caught the scent of bubblegum and daisies. Following the scent, he walked forward and then left until he was in front of a fallen tree. Bending down, he was met with the sight of a huddled form of a girl: Tessa.

“Got you!” he said gleefully, glad at least that he wasn’t a total loser at this game.

“Darnit!” she whined, pouting in her discovery.

“You go to the left and look for the others. I want to find Dean.”

Sighing a little, Tessa brushed off her suit and scampered off into the forest to locate the others in that direction. Benny’s excitement overtook him again, and he sprinted off to the right, his nose turned up to catch every scent.

Maybe ten minutes later, he found Ezekiel and Sam, which only left Dean to find. He was certain that Jo and Charlie were going to be found by Tessa, so he sent the boys back to the clearing to wait for her. As they trampled back the way he came, he pushed on, following the smells of mint and leather that no doubt comprised Dean.

He went deeper and deeper into the woods, into parts he didn’t really know very well, and Benny began to get nervous for his friend. What if he went too far? What if someone- or something- snatched him? How would Benny be able to live with himself if that happened? The sun had petered out under the increasingly dense top cover of the trees, making it seem as if this section of the forest was darker than the others. Birds chirped occasionally, and the snap of sticks under the feet of other unseen animals made Benny anxious.

He had almost given up when his friend’s scent strengthened. Benny looked left, then right, and was met with a surprise: the smell hadn’t led in either direction. It seemed as if it was going……

Benny looked up, and caught sight of a red bathing suit in the leaves of a tree. Grinning triumphantly, he scaled the tree with little difficulty, already preparing his speech for when he got back. The others would be so proud of him, to have found the most elusive of the bunch, the one who always won.

He grew level with Dean, and was about to tell him that he won when Dean turned to him and plastered his hand over his lips.

“Shh!” the boy whispered, green eyes intense and filled with what looked like…. fear. He was about to tear away Dean’s hand when he became suddenly aware of how quiet the forest was. Usually, there were birds chirping and books babbling or other sounds one associated with a forest. But now, there was nothing, no chirping, no gurgling, not even the whisper of the wind through the trees.

Not only that, Benny noticed, but it seemed to have gone colder. They had been out of the water for more than a few minutes, so it wasn’t just them. His skin was covered in goosebumps, and he could see that Dean’s skin was as well.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Dean’s eyes suddenly widened, and he pointed through a small hole in the leaves. Curious, and afraid, Benny eased forward silently, peering through the window that leaves made, and--

A man glided into the clearing, smoothly and silently.

It was unearthly, how quiet he was, given how noisy he should’ve been in dress shoes and business slacks. He looked out of place in this natural environment, as if he stepped out of a magazine article and into a foreign planet. His white shirt was neatly pressed, and his black pants were spotless. As he walked, Benny noticed that he did indeed step onto the ground, but that the leaves and dirt seemed to move for him, as if they were all under his control.

He was whistling, a tune that had no name, but it definitely struck a chord in both boys’ hearts. It was hauntingly beautiful, but only just. In truth, Benny was hesitant to call it even ‘pretty’ because of how harsh and awful it sounded. The song spoke of whispered pleas, agonizing screams, and of darkness that would never lighten. It seemed to draw all of the life out of everything, the forest dwindling until it felt dead and empty like a black hole. In fact, he posited that it was the closest thing to a black hole that he would ever experience: it was evil and mysterious and nothing escaped its pull.

He could tell that Dean was afraid, and it was something that stirred Benny to the core. If his friend the Gryffindor was afraid of something, then it was perfectly alright for everyone else to be terrified. But Dean had a really high fear tolerance. Very few things, even the threat of Crowley levelling a Killing Curse at him barely fazed him. If he was this scared of a man that obviously didn’t belong in the forest, then something was seriously wrong.

Suddenly, the man drifted to a stop, and Benny only barely had time to recognize that he had brown-auburn hair that was thin and short before the man looked up at the sky. Benny had to stifle a scream at what greeted him.

The dark man’s eyes were as white as cream, but they didn’t hold the same whimsy. They were cold and cruel, like the snow in a blizzard. They seemed to freeze all of the blood in his veins, and Benny was scared to think that both boys would die today.

The man smiled, a gruesome smile that sent shivers down his spine, and with the sound of a gust of wind, he turned in on himself and disappeared. The sound abruptly bled back into the world, and finally, the boys felt as if they were back in the real world.

Silently, they clambered down to the ground, limbs shaking and faces pale. They said nothing as they walked through the forest, back through Benny’s  path until they reached the clearing, which was devoid of people. Tessa and the others must have grown tired of waiting and escaped into the sun, Benny thought, and for that, he was glad. If they saw them like this- all scared and speechless- they would ask questions they couldn’t hope to answer.

As if he was thinking the same thing, Dean turned to him abruptly.

“We can’t tell anyone about this.”

“Why?” Benny asked, a little worried as to what would come out next.

“Who would believe us, first of all? We’re eleven years old and one of us is a half-vampire who almost no one likes- no offense. Also, that guy might not even be real. Both of us could’ve touched some magic root or something like that that made us see things.”

They both knew how unlikely it was, but they were eleven; how were they supposed to explain something that was unknown to them if they had never experienced it before? Benny, deep down, wanted to say something to someone, ask about a man with milky-white eyes and a tendency to make all life stop, but the larger part of him, the scared and frightened boy, said otherwise.

He nodded, not saying anything. Dean’s face, which had regained a little bit of color since they had escaped that hellish event, broke out into an uneasy smile. He clapped Benny on the shoulder, saying “Well, you won Hide-And-Seek anyway! Let’s go announce your victory to the masses!”

 **  
**Benny allowed himself to forget the incident, and the happiness and excitement washed over him again. A smile grew on his face as Dean steered him out into the sun and the security of the world he knew. As he paraded him towards their group of friends, and as he heard their exclamations of joy and laughter and general childhood obliviousness, Benny couldn’t help but turn to look once more at the edge of the forest, half-expecting the pale-eyed man to be standing there, watching them with that predatory grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmm...... I wonder who that creepy man could be.... *wink wink*
> 
> Side note: I was actually a few hundred words short of my relatively rough chapter length, so I had to edit a few things and that was where the Professor Thanatos DuMort section came in. I thought that we hadn't really focused on her extensively, and don't worry, I will have similar sections for the rest of the characters when I get the opportunity to. I have a lot of leeway with Charlie, considering how much freedom she has innately as a character.
> 
> Fanart would be definitely appreciated and welcomed and encouraged.
> 
> Keep reading, keep writing, and always keep a container of salt for emergencies!  
> ~typewrittentragedian96


	7. Chapter 7

The summer had ended quickly after that, all memory of the white-eyed man dissipating in the manic rush of buying school supplies and generally being children. By the end of his first fantastic summer, Benny was content to say that he was a honorary Winchester.

 

Even if John Winchester was still hostile in the weakest sense of the word.

 

The last day of summer, the day they went to get new supplies for Hogwarts, was not sad at all. Usually, leaving a place where you felt safe and secure and free to be whoever you wanted to be without fear of judgment was almost unbearably sad. But Benny knew that even though Crowley was at Hogwarts and that people still didn’t trust him, the wizarding school was tied with the Winchester household in terms of places he felt the best at.

 

Even though they had almost an entire year before he would be able to return to the house he had come to treat as his own, Benny was hopeful for the coming year, and as the day drew closer, his excitement grew and grew.

 

He could tell Dean was excited too, but Sam was the one who woke up almost impossibly early to wake everyone else up so that they could get a head start on their school shopping, Hogwarts fever having overtaken him in the middle of the night- or so it seemed.

 

He had woken Benny without remorse, and even though he loved his sleep more than anyone else (save for Dean, who could sleep until at least ten o’clock on a normal day), he abdicated quietly, resigning himself to the hopeless idea that he could sleep on the train.

 

Breakfast was eaten quietly and quickly, the Winchester household turned gradually into a whirlwind of activity and anxiety.  Most of it was centered around the older boys, who had the most stuff to bring, though there was a certain distress at getting Sam ready for Diagon Alley.

 

Mary Winchester was not one to be late and unprepared. She was a very focused and driven woman, something that, even though she had apparently passed onto Dean, was absent in him this morning. He still had that foggy look in his eyes as he stumbled around, putting things in the wrong place and almost forgetting to bring his owl, Zeppelin, along.

 

It took more than five repeated ‘DEAN!’s to get him to function, though this drastically improved after she threatened to forgo sending him pies when he was at school. The look on his friend’s face was enough to make Benny laugh heartily, which earned him a slightly hurt glare from Dean.

 

Thirty minutes later, at the punctual time of 7:30, Mary Winchester and the rest of the boys pile into the government-provided cars and then they were off to the part of London that held the Leaky Cauldron, the entrance to Diagon Alley. They would’ve taken the Floo Network, but there was a distinct lack of a fireplace in the house, which Benny was smart enough to know that he shouldn’t ask about it.

 

It took a few minutes to get through the crowd of people in the pub, but one glare from John Winchester was enough to part the crowd like the Red Sea. They left their trunks in the car, which Mary explained that the government would make sure their belongings were at the train station so they they could bring them to school.

 

Sam’s face as he beheld Diagon Alley was picture-worthy, the summation of his greatest dreams and wishes, and Benny smiled warmly as he saw it. He had never seen the younger boy so happy, and he only wished that his Hogwarts experience would continue to make that smile grow.

 

They stopped off at Flourish and Blott’s first, books being a necessity for all boys. While Dean and Benny groaned a little at the new tomes they would have to look through for their upcoming year, the main offender being the two-thousand page History of Magic textbook, Sam looked as if he had hit the jackpot and he bore his books as proudly as Dean held his broom.

 

Benny thought he saw Crowley in the crowd, Meg at his side, but he decided not to dwell on the two Slytherins for very long; this was Sam’s day, in a way, and it needn’t be spoiled by school grudges.

 

They continued on to the Apothecary to pick up Potions supplies, Madame Malkin’s for Sam’s first robes and touch-ups for the older boys, and Eyelops Owl Emporium to pick up a pet for Sam. After maybe three minutes in the store, he came out happily holding an owl he proclaimed was named ‘Ruby’, and then it was off to Wiseacre’s for the rest of the stuff needed for the year to come.

 

Finally, as tradition warranted, it was time for Sam to obtain his wand. He went in alone, as was the unspoken tradition, but it didn’t stop Benny from waving to Ollivander through the window. A little girl Sam’s age was inside as well, but the only thing Benny could tell about her was that she had curly blonde hair.

 

After ten or so minutes of tense waiting, Sam and the little girl came out of the store at the same time, Sam letting her go in front of him. The blush was unmistakable in both of the children’s cheeks, but Dean didn’t say anything, blessedly. The little girl waved to Sam as she walked away with her father, and Sam didn’t hesitate to wave back.

 

“C’mon, Sammy. Let’s see your wand!” Dean said excitedly, and Benny marvelled at how close the boys were, that one would get excited for the other.

 

Sam withdrew, albeit a little clumsily, a dark wand that was actually quite long for someone of his size, with a yellow crystal or rock embedded in the hilt. Dean whistled, and Sam beamed.

 

“So, who was that girl, Sammy?”

 

“Stop calling me that, I’m eleven now! But her name was Jessica and she’s the same year as me.”

 

“Well, then. I guess you’ll see her a lot at Hogwarts. I’m sure she’s very nice.” Mary said, smiling contentedly. She leaned against John happily, and he actually smiled a little as he put his arm around her shoulders. It was adorable, and Benny felt a sliver of envy and something else in his chest- maybe longing. He wondered how it felt to have something like that, leaning against someone and knowing they can hold you up.

 

“Well, we better get going. The train will be leaving soon.” John said, and Benny didn’t miss the hint of a smile in his tone.

 

They all walked back through the alley, Dean and Benny admiring the brooms through the windows before they exited the street and back into the pub. They piled into the cars and within minutes they were in King’s Cross, pushing their own trolleys of trunks, boxes, and bird cages, in Dean and Sam’s cases.

 

They reached the barrier to Platform 9 and ¾, and Benny grinned at Sam’s confused face. He hadn’t been allowed to come to the station when Dean was getting on the train for the first time a year ago, so he wasn’t privy to the way they actually got to the train.

 

Mary winked at Benny and Dean, and with a lopsided grin that made Benny’s heart twinge, the older Winchester ran straight towards the barrier. Sam held up his hand and looked as though he was about to yell at his brother to stop because there was a wall, but when Dean disappeared through the seemingly solid concrete, his face turned into one of wonder and complete shock.

 

Benny laughed, and pushed his own trolley as he ran towards that same wall and in a small whoosh, he was out. The bustling train station had melted away before another had popped up into its place, and the Hogwarts Express waited for him, beckoning him with steam and magic and promise.

 

Dean grinned at him as Benny maneuvered his trolley so that they were right beside each other, and watched as Sam ran through the wall, eyes full of manic joy, followed closely by Mary and John Winchester, the former smiling excitedly and the latter grimacing as if the thought of smiling was almost painful.

 

“THAT WAS AMAZING!” Sam yelled, drawing a few amused glances from the surrounding witches and wizards.

 

“That’s what we call magic, Sammy.” Dean said sarcastically, wiggling his fingers at the mention of magic. Sam pushed him goodnaturedly, and Dean stuck out his tongue at him in response.

After that, the Winchesters plus Benny pushed their way through the crowd until they got to an open carriage that had a luggage compartment not overtaken by other children yet. They deposited all of their trunks in the space, including the owls, both of which tittered almost sadly. Dean stroked Zeppelin and cooed, Sam mirroring his movements to calm down his new owl Ruby, who was a tawny owl.

 

Benny was a little jealous that he did not have a pet to take care of and love unconditionally, but he guessed that it didn’t really matter for him; he had friends, and that was really all he needed.

 

Finally, the train whistle began to blow, and the older boys entered the train, goodbyes thrown back into the crowd of parents that had suddenly amassed as if by magic. Sam had to stick back a little longer so that Mary could fully give him her first goodbye, as well as for John to give him a hug and tell him that he would see him soon.

 

And then Sam was right next to both Benny and Dean, and they rushed to find an open carriage, which managed to elude them, but in the end, before the train had begun to move, they found Charlie, Jo, Tessa, and Ezekiel and squeezed in with them. There were smiles all around, and they all leaned out the rather spacious windows to wave at the passing crowd of parents and younger (and in some cases, older) siblings. Benny caught sight of Mary and John in the crowd and waved just as enthusiastically as Dean and Sam, which made Mary smile.

 

He kept that smile in his head long after she had disappeared over the horizon, and the rest of the train trip was spent introducing Sam to the wonders of wizarding snacks, and if there was one thing that was absolutely infectious, it was the little boy’s wide and giddy smile as he beheld the Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, and Every-Flavoured Beans on the food trolley.

 

The ride was uneventful and peaceful, which Benny took to mean that maybe Crowley had been left behind and he wouldn’t be at school this year. Either that or he actually wasn’t going to bother him. Sam eventually cooled down after being on a ‘Hogwarts High’, something that Dean coined maybe an hour into the ride.

 

Eventually, the train stopped, and Benny had to keep himself from laughing at the look of excitement on Sam’s face. He looked like someone had given him the key to the biggest library in the world, and at least ten pounds of Pumpkin Pasties (which had all been eaten before anyone else tried to eat one). Despite repeated, somewhat grave declarations of him being eleven, the boy was practically jumping up and down in his seat, as if someone had pumped him full of electricity and let him loose.

 

Though they were all quite excited to be back for their second year, the rest of the passengers in their compartment weren’t as hyper as Sam. They had all taken advantage of the trolley, and were as stuffed as a turkey on Thanksgiving.

 

Benny and Dean led the way, with Sam departing from the group with the first years, presumably to cross the lake in those fantastic little boats. He caught sight of bouncy, curly blonde hair by Sam’s side before he was swallowed up by the darkness. He was silently grateful that Dean hadn’t said anything to him before he got out of sight, but he just giggled as Dean elbowed him in response.

 

After climbing the stairs and walking to the Great Hall, the group of friends split up into the respective tables, Benny casting the occasional wistful glance towards the Gryffindor table, where Dean and Charlie were laughing loudly with the rest of the red-scarfed children. But then Cas found them, having sat in a different carriage with his brother, and the Hufflepuffs began talking earnestly. They were in the midst of a rousing conversation about magic they heard would be taught this year when the large double doors opened and the first-years proceeded into the hall.

 

Almost all conversation ceased between Benny, Ezekiel, Cas and Tessa, because there was nothing so engrossing as the first-years’ facial expressions. Half of them wore a look of utter joy and wonder; some looked slightly terrified, and the rest were smug or indifferent. As they marched forward, under the leadership of Neville Longbottom, the group bickered about which ones would be the most trouble, who was most likely a Pureblood, and picked out the ones that would become the successors to the Weasley Twins from years before.

 

Headmaster Milton looked just as young and cold as before, and his eyes slid over each child before him like a snake to a crowd of mice.

 

Professor Longbottom repeated the same speech he had spoken to Benny and the others just a year ago, and there was that silly little song that somehow, despite changing every year, everyone knew by heart, including Benny. And then, the Sorting began.

 

Each child who walked up to the Hat was carefully judged by the surrounding student body, and Benny and his friends were no different. They watched the eleven-year-olds climb the steps and sit on the stool, and from the way they walked and sat and looked as the Hat was placed on their head, he guessed on their Sorting. Tessa and Ezekiel joined in, and eventually, Cas had to give in.

 

Soon, though, the fun multiplied when Cas started naming each Sorting, only for it to become true a few seconds later. Benny, Tessa, and Ezekiel simply stopped guessing, and would prompt Cas on certain aspects of the kid, to which he would do that little squint of his and answer their House.

 

He was rarely wrong, and they had started a tally that ended up somewhere in the upper fifties when Sam’s friend Jessica climbed onto the stool. Her last name was Moore, and she had warm brown eyes and a small beauty mark at the top of her nose, almost right between her eyes. Her smile was almost contagious, and she radiated a warmth that just screamed intelligence and compassion.

 

“Whaddya think about her, Cas?” Benny whispered.

 

Cas squinted at her, his head slightly cocked to one side, and after a moment’s thought, said, “Ravenclaw.”

 

Sure enough, a few seconds later, the Hat screamed ‘RAVENCLAW” into the air, and Jessica skipped off to join the blue-and-silver table, which had erupted into excited shouts.

 

The list continued before, in what seemed like a heartbeat, the name ‘Sam Winchester’ was called. The younger Winchester walked up to the stool and sat down, glancing in his brother’s direction warily. Benny saw Dean give him a thumb’s up before the Hat yelled:

 

“RAVENCLAW!”

 

The yells of the Ravenclaw table were just as loud as before, only now, there was the even louder cheering and whooping from the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Benny and Dean were both up on their feet, giving their friend and brother, in Dean’s case, the biggest congratulations. A few people laughed at them, or gave them weird looks, but there wasn’t really a reason to be ashamed.

 

Sam gave the biggest smile at both of them, before plopping down next to Jessica, who was sharing a smile. Both of them looked like they won the lottery, and as he sat down, Benny was much happier because of their own happiness.

 

After the last few kids were Sorted, the food appeared, and suddenly, all of their stomachs were empty, as if they hadn’t eaten almost all of the sweets from the trolley. Benny could see Dean diggin in ravenously to some chicken and turkey legs, taking swigs from his goblet every so often. Smiling, he ate his own meal, though with much better manners than the other boy. As they ate- or, rather, in between bites- Benny and Ezekiel talked about how much they were looking forward to their years, while Tessa talked to some of her other friends. Cas occasionally joined in on their conversation, but was content to eat silently. Benny knew he wasn’t irritated or anything like that; he was just as happy as the rest of them, only he expressed it differently.

 

After the tremendous feast was quickly followed by dessert, Benny sat at the table, feeling much more content and sleepy than before. He was stuffed to the brim, and after glancing at his friends, he wasn’t surprised to see that they were also full.

 

Seeing that the majority of the student body was trying not to fall asleep at their own tables, Headmaster Milton made his cursory announcements a little quicker than usual, and graciously allowing the almost comatose children to retire to their beds for the evening.

 

Dean made sure to give Sam a big noogie when he saw him, but that was all he did. He did give him a hug also, and told him with a stern expression that he better tell him his schedule so he could help him find the best places to do homework and also where his friends would be on their off-time.

 

After that, the houses split up at their dorm entrances, and Benny was relieved that the dorm was still just as nice and warm as it had been a year ago. Even though he knew the rooms like the back of his hand, everything still felt just as fresh and new as though he had only stayed for a few days instead of an entire semester.

 

Cupid and Rachel, now sixth years, still led them to their dorms, and made sure to dismiss the older kids before the first-years, and the chubby Prefect made sure to give a hug to almost everyone, no matter how slightly uncomfortable it was.

  
Benny stumbled down the hallway, the blinking blue flowers on the wall dancing before his eyes like fireflies from some far off world. They continued to glitter and gleam in the backs of his eyes long after he closed them and drifted off into the realm of sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for the update, but too bad. I had writer's block and changing classes and AP assignments. FYI: this chapter takes place 2 years after the previous one, in the springtime. Benny and Zeke are 15, Dean and everyone else are 14, and Sam and Jess are 13. (Basically, everyone except Sam and Jessica are in their 4th Year).

(2 Years Later)

“I swear to God, Dean! If you Transfigure my shoes into rabbits one more time--”

Dean’s delighted laughter bounced off of the corridor walls, and Benny sighed exasperatedly in the library. The book of Healing spells was still open in front of him, turned to the page about skeletal fractures and the impracticalities of Skele-Gro, and he was supposed to be writing a paper for Madame Pomfrey about it. He wanted to start learning to be a Healer like her, and so she had taken him under her wing, under the promise of expulsion if he tampered with any of the blood packets.

It was standard stuff, he knew that well; but Dean’s antics had increased exponentially over the past 2 years, making the gang’s second and third years a haze of increasing classwork and the ability of the elder Winchester to piss off everyone in a fifty foot radius almost single handedly. It didn’t help that Dean was very talented in Jinxes and Curses; Defense Against the Dark Arts was his favorite class, and he used that to his advantage often.

He had been the proponent of more than twenty magical incidents on Hogwarts grounds, and almost all of them were done to teachers. It didn’t matter if he liked them or not; everyone was a victim in the making.

Professor Flitwick had had enough trouble making sure all of the books and papers were in order, lacking a suitable organization system. Charlie had tried helping him, but the almost daily animation of paper to fly around the room by Dean was enough to make her genuinely angry at him. It had taken a lot of apologizing and a week’s worth of Potions homework to make the fiery redhead look at him with little more than a stony expression.

Professor McGonagall, still teaching Transfiguration, had diagnosed him with ‘Marauder’s Syndrome’. When Benny asked her what it was, she replied, “It is the pairing of natural magical talent with almost unnatural mischievous intent.” without looking up once from her newspaper. She both lauded his abilities with Transfiguration and scolded him for his lack of effort.

Dean simply leaned back in his chair and smirked, though Benny could see the steel in his eyes; he was going to put forth the effort, eventually.

Poor Madam Pomfrey had been on call for him ever since his reign of terror had started; more often than not, he got himself injured at the worst of times or doing something undoubtedly not allowed on school grounds. Of course, as his injuries cropped up faster each year, Benny’s proficiency in spells and potions designed to reverse injury made him indispensable to her, and she gladly accepted his request for tutelage.

3… 2… 1…

At the tick of his mental clock at 0, he heard a loud crash, the banging of a metal cauldron, and what he thought was the crack of bone against stone. There was a muffled groan, roughened to cover the fact the person was in pain, and sighing, Benny got up from the desk, tucking the book under his arm.

Dean, as predicted, was leaning up against the wall, broken wrist shielded protectively from anyone’s glance. _Like that’s gonna hurt your reputation, dude,_ BEnny thought wryly. This time, it wasn’t Charlie who had been chasing him, but Tessa, and she looked angrier than Benny had seen her before. Her face was paler than usual, eyes dark and glinting, but there was concern drifting behind the angry storm.

She obviously hadn’t intended to hurt him, and it looked like she hadn’t even touched him. There was a dented cauldron on the floor, initialled with Dean’s name. There were some scattered ingredients, but nothing that was made of glass. Likely, he had tripped running from her, and his cauldron was now quite damaged, enough to interfere with any potion he had intended to make.

“I’m sorry, Dean. But you keep Switching my shoe to rabbits, and sometimes, while I’m wearing them! It’s kind of annoying, and I really would like you to stop.” Tessa had quieted down quickly, anger dissipating into stern disapproval and the tell-tale politeness of their friend. There was a small, sad smile on her face, an apology more than joy at his pain. She couldn’t be happy at anyone’s suffering if you paid her in Galleons.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, too. But, you gotta admit, the first few times were _hilarious_.”

Tessa’s eyebrow arched, and Dean turned to Benny, looking for backup.

“Don’t pull me in this, Dean. Just let me see your hand and I’ll fix it.”

Dean jerked his arm closer to his chest, wincing at the pain. He was like a child with a splinter, afraid the parent’s hand is going to jerk it out of him. It was stubborn and irritating, but he could see the pain in his friend’s eyes. Gently, and slowly, Benny maneuvered his friend’s arm out in front of him, and withdrew his wand smoothly and quickly, pointing it at the inflamed wrist.

“ _Brackium emendo_ ,” Benny said, and a fountain of blue smoke twisted out of the tip of his wand, swirling around the wrist and masking the healing. There was a small pop!, and the smoke dissipated in an invisible breeze. Dean’s wrist was no longer inflamed, and he flexed his wrist and fingers to test that it had healed.

“Good as new,” Benny said, and patted Dean’s arm gently, afraid of causing another injury. He was now bigger than Dean in stature, big and muscled. He was like “a friggin’ bear”, as Charlie had said, winking conspiratorially at him. He had blushed redder than a tomato plant, and she had skipped off, laughing.

“Thanks, man!” Dean said, brushing his friend’s arm away before stopping low to pick up his cauldron. He wasn’t wearing his robes, and his shirt was rolled up to his elbows. As he braced his knees and lifted the dented pewter cauldron, Benny could see his biceps and triceps flex against the shirt, and he couldn’t help but silently admire his butt as well.

“Gotta go, and thanks again, Benny! You are a lifesaver!”

With that, Dean started jogging away, down the hall, as if he hadn’t broken his wrist doing the exact same thing minutes before. Tessa and Benny stood side by side and watched him, one blushing faintly and one with a small, smug smile on her face.

“If I didn’t know any better, Benny, I’d say you have a not-so-little crush on Mr. Winchester.”

Benny just nodded soundlessly, causing his friend to pat his arm a few times before saying, “Be careful, though. He’s the guy who’ll build you up and then let you down spectacularly. Pretty boys always cause the hardest falls.”

“Thanks,” he said.

“Any time, Lafitte. I’m gonna go hang with Zeke and try to finish that History of Magic paper early. Wanna come along?”

Benny looked once more in the retreating form of Dean Winchester, and as someone yelped in a way that suggested that they had almost been run over by a fit young man with a cauldron sprinting at breakneck speeds, and said, “Sure. Just…. don’t mention it to anyone, okay?” It was the closest he had ever came to coming out of the closet, and he was a little surprised at how easily and smoothly he handled it— on the outside.

They turned and walked down the hall, basking in the sunlight drifting through the courtyards. It was spring, later than the pollen months, but not quite towards the beginning of summer. It was the perfect middle-ground, and Benny enjoyed the rain showers and the brief interludes of golden warmth. Flowers had started sprouting, and he had seen more than a few of them in girls’ hair, including Tessa.

He rolled up his sleeves as they walked, and loosened his yellow-and-black tie. Tessa was already primed for the warm weather, having not spent an hour or so in the slightly chilly library. Students ran by, most of them not wearing their robes. Some of the older kids were wearing more mundane clothes, but Benny didn’t really envy them just yet. They waved to the kids they knew, passing by teachers and giving them small smiles and respectful nods.

The courtyard was almost completely empty, save for a few students clustered on the colonnade openings. The oak tree was still there, and it showed no signs of yielding to the stone around it. The roots were gnarled and strong, and the grass around it was vibrant and healthy, Benny’s favorite type of grass. It was soft against the skin, not itchy like other grass in America, and he relished the naps he had there.

Zeke was currently the only one in the group under the tree, gray eyes intensely focused on the parchment at his feet. His quill pen scratched at the paper, quickly creating beautiful cursive letters that were almost to the level of calligraphy. A fellow student had remarked that Ezekiel could take some calligraphy lessons, and he had blushed faintly and thanked them softly.

His blonde hair was slowly turning a chestnut brown, but in the sunlight, all of it was like the blonde he had had in his younger years. He was 15, the same age as Benny, and they were the only ones who weren’t 14 or 13, in the cases of Sam and Jessica.

Like most of the other students, Zeke had shed his black robes, and his black shoes and socks sat beside him. His bare feet were somewhat burrowed into the soft grass, and his tie was loose around his neck. There was a blanket under him, to avoid dirt getting on his trousers, and Benny happily saw that it was the Hufflepuff blanket he had gotten him for Christmas this past December. It wasn’t enchanted, but it was made of the softest, most durable fabric he could find.

“Hey, Zeke! I brought Benny!”

Without looking up, Zeke smiled and waved absent-mindedly as the two Hufflepuffs plopped themselves down next to him. He got this way easily, entrenched in whatever work he could immerse in. Arithmancy was the only thing he couldn’t concentrate on, and benny found it amusing to seem him stare at the numbers, looking he was going to explode.

“What’re you writin’ about, Zeke?” Benny asked, unrolling his own parchment and retrieving his quill pen from his pocket. Some ink had stained his pants when he took it out, but with a quick “ _Tergeo_ ”, it was siphoned into the tip of his wand.

“Professor Binns was very… vauge about what subjects to write about, so I went with something different.”

“What?”

“You’ll think it’s weird.”

“Zeke. We live in a magical castle nine months out of the year, perform magic for a living, and I’m a half-vampire studying healin’ magic. It’s not gonna be weird at all.”

There was that faint blush again, and Benny’s stomach wriggled again.

“I’m doing etymology of wizarding names.”

“That’s cool. I’m probably focusing on the rise of Healing magic use throughout the 7th and 8th centuries.”

Zeke looked up then, an expression of mock surprise on his face. He dropped his quill into the soft earth, and looked at Benny with a small glint in his eye. “Really? Benny Lafitte, writing about healing magic? That’s so _weird_! It’s not as if he’s been obsessed with the stuff since…. since when, Tessa?”

“I’d say…. since first year!” Tessa said after a moment of mock thoughtfulness.

“Wow, that’s a long time. And I haven’t heard anything come out of his mouth about it—at all.”

With that, Zeke leaned in very close to Benny, looking very sassy indeed. He was wearing his bitchface in full force, but the little gleam in his eyes alleviated any real bitchiness in the expression. Benny stared right back at him, not letting him win the staring contest easily. Minutes went by, and both boys’ eyes were burning when Tessa shoved them both to the ground, breaking the eye contact. Her giggling danced on the rays of light, and Benny thought, there is no laugh more beautiful than hers.

They spent the next hour or so writing their History of Magic papers, and, as usual, Zeke was finished first. There had been many conversations with the group about alternate House assignments, and there was no arguing when the point was brought up that Ezekiel would probably be placed into Ravenclaw, simply because of how damn smart he was. Every one of them was smart in one or two things, but Zeke just had a way of knowing things, from so many places.

Tessa put hers aside last, frustrated and ready to think of something other than the migration of Werewolves in 556 A.D. Benny had already been on a “ten-minute break”, which had been extended for about thirty minutes. He already had written most of it, and he felt he could finish it tonight with no problems at all.

“Are you gonna ask You-Know-Who to the Yule Ball?”

Tessa’s question was directed at Benny, he knew without even turning to look at her. Zeke was in one of his quiet moods, looking out over the courtyard and the sky’s shifting clouds. He wasn’t listening, so he felt it was okay to answer her.

“I-I…. think so.”

“Why the ‘think so’? Why not ‘totally gonna do it’? What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He could shoot me down and tell everyone I like… boys.”

“Well, if that happens, I’ll personally go over there and make him apologize.”

“Thanks, but I’m still convinced this is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. And there are quite a few things we’ve done that would be competition for it, believe me. Remember sneaking out to ride broomsticks in our first year?”

Tessa sighed. “There’s only one thing to do: ask him straight up.”

Benny was about to argue against her, tell her that the number of gay people— or anyone who wasn’t straight, for that matter— was limited to one of his hands, and the number of insults that had been thrown around in hallways were atrocious. Despite the fact that Dumbledore had been gay, and everyone had loved him was moot; for one, he was dead, and he had also never told anyone explicitly. There was still a lot of prejudice, even in a school like this; though, as long as there were still asshole Slytherins, there was still judgment and self-righteousness. But, before he could say anything, Dean came running into the courtyard, clutching a newspaper and looking more than a little freaked out.

“Benny, you need to see this!” He said breathlessly, plopping down in front of them and shoving the crumpled paper into his friend’s hands. As he unrolled the paper, Tessa and Zeke moved in behind him, eager to see what Dean was so scared of.

The headline simply read: _Mysterious Wizard Seen At Scenes of Gruesome Murders_. That was enough to freak Benny out, but Dean simply pointed to the picture just below it.

The white-eyed man from the woods was staring back at him, that predatory smile plastered on that pale face. It was almost not even a real picture, the article warned. This was a close representation based on eyewitness accounts, obtained through Occlumency and drawn from memory. But it didn’t matter where they got the face from: both Dean and Benny had seen it before, in its terrifying glory, and this was it.

“Who’s that?” Tessa asked quietly, fear lacing her voice like black lace around red velvet.

Neither Dean or Benny felt comfortable enough to answer, and all thoughts of asking Dean to the Yule Ball evaporated out of his mind. The man had be real after all. He wasn’t a mirage of frightened eleven-year-olds, or a spirit of some otherworldly realm; he was a real person, a wizard, and he was undoubtedly a murderer.

**Author's Note:**

> Aww, Benny needs some friends. Good thing he has Dean and Co. Artwork that is inspired by this fic will be greatly appreciated, but it is not optional.
> 
> Comments and feedback will be greatly appreciated, as this work is completely unbeta'd (which I take to mean that no one has offered editing services to me in exchange for further updates). Please help me if I am wrong, especially if I have the definition of "unbeta'd" totally wrong.


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